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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676050">Unremembered</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem'>faerierequiem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alive Noah Czerny, Bisexual Male Character, Canon-typical spookiness/magic/otherworldliness/etc., EMPHASIS ON BOTH THE SLOWS, Hook-Up, M/M, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags will be updated as the story progresses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:09:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ronan?”<br/>The guy looks up with wide eyes. His expressionless face melts into surprise as they stare at each other and Noah knows that he’s got it right. He can’t believe that it took him this long to get it right. It shouldn’t be possible that he didn’t recognize him as soon as he saw him. There’s no mistaking Ronan Lynch.<br/>Noah smiles. “It’s been a while.”</p><p> </p><p>-<br/>au where noah didn't die, ronan is the same age as noah, and this takes place four years after they graduate from aglionby</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Noah Czerny &amp; Ronan Lynch, Noah Czerny/Ronan Lynch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ronan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The guy is at the end of line, two persons away from the counter, and Noah has been trying to figure out who he is since three persons ago. He looks familiar, but Noah feels like he’s forgetting the more he tries to remember. Things are more difficult when he’s got customers to focus on. He’s only been working at Dolce for a week, which isn’t long enough for him to learn how to not expand his complete brain power for when he’s taking orders and counting change and serving gelato.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So far the only thing he’s got is that he probably knows this guy from Aglionby. If he’s here in Henrietta, then there are chances that he went there, but Noah can’t place him. It’s surprising. There weren’t a lot of tall, good-looking guys at Aglionby, so his options should be limited</span>
  <span>—and yet this is turning out to be a puzzle that’s too difficult to solve. He thinks down a different route. The guy looks like he’s Noah’s age and a lot can change in four years. He tries to reimagine the guy with acne on his face or in the Aglionby uniform or with a different hairstyle. There wasn’t anyone with a side cut back then...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah zaps out of his thoughts to the lady in front of him. She’s handing him a twenty dollar bill to pay for her order. “Sorry.” He gives her an apologetic smile and focuses back on working until he gets a brief moment to himself as he scoops chocolate hazelnut gelato into a container.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze flickers back up at the guy. He’s been looking down at his phone during the entirety of his wait, expression passive, unchanging every time Noah has looked at him, and his eyelashes are long, almost obscuring the blue of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next customer comes and goes and Noah is no closer to figuring out who this guy is. He’s beginning to think that maybe he reminds Noah of someone he’s seen in passing and that Noah doesn’t know him from anywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guy walks up to the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a chill in the air. It’s probably from the breeze that came in through the door, causing goosebumps to rise across Noah’s skin as he finally remembers. It’s like he hears the name before it appears in his thoughts and he speaks it out loud. “Ronan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guy looks up with wide eyes. His expressionless face melts into surprise as they stare at each other and Noah knows that he’s got it right. He can’t believe that it took him this long to get it right. It shouldn’t be possible that he didn’t recognize him as soon as he saw him. There’s no mistaking Ronan Lynch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah smiles. “It’s been a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The surprise on Ronan’s face dies, replaced with a steely expression that causes Noah’s smile to falter. The way Ronan’s eyes narrow into something that’s not quite a glare, but a cousin to one, has him shifting on his feet. He holds back a shiver. He can’t believe that he’s somehow managed to also forget that Ronan never really liked him. He’s transported to science class on the first day of senior year, trying to figure out where to sit, spotting Ronan by himself in the back corner of the room, and Ronan shooting him the equivalent of a “keep away” sign with his eyes. It’s similar to the look he’s giving Noah now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan’s voice is cold and demanding. Noah has to remind himself that they’re no longer in science class.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fixes a smile back onto his face. “I work here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No s—” Ronan stops himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I thought you left Henrietta.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I graduated and I’m back,” Noah says. “Bachelor’s de—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re staying here permanently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah wouldn’t have thought that Ronan would end up being the first difficult customer that he’s had to deal with here, but maybe he should’ve expected it. It feels false to be smiling politely when what he wants is to excuse himself and go hide in the back until Ronan is gone. He takes a deep breath through his nose. “What would you like to order?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a second, it feels like Ronan is going to keep asking questions or turn around and leave, but instead, he takes out his wallet and mumbles “medium pistachio” underneath his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’ll be eight dollars and ninety-three cents.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah decides to get the gelato ready as Ronan deals with the credit card machine to speed up the process. The silence between them is tight and heavy. Noah can’t help but break it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know that you were a gelato person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan’s mouth tugs downwards. It’s hard to tell if it’s a frown or his normal face, but it makes Noah feel like he’s said the wrong thing and he wishes that he’d kept quiet instead of putting his foot in his mouth. He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of their exchange. Neither does Ronan. As soon as the gelato is in his hands, Ronan is out the door and Noah watches as it closes shut after him, part of him wishing that Ronan doesn’t come back again, but another part of him wishing that Ronan does, so that he gets a chance to prove himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t sit well with him that he’s done something that’s caused Ronan to dislike him so much. He doesn’t even know what he could’ve done. They had rarely crossed paths back then and the few times that they did, Noah doesn’t remember doing anything that could’ve warrant all the glares.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe he’s forgotten. Noah lets out a sigh and looks down from the door. If there’s one thing he’s learned from today’s events, it’s that his memory sucks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something on the ground breaks him out of his thoughts. A wallet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah’s eyes widen. He jumps over the counter and walks over to pick it up. The wallet looks like Ronan’s. The driver’s license inside confirms it. Noah gets onto his feet and hurries out the door. Maybe he’ll catch Ronan in time before he drives off, but the parking lot is empty. Nothing but a cold wind that picks up a littered bag of chips and sends it flying into the air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noah clocks out at seven eighteen, shortly after closing time. It’s been a long day full of customers and he wants nothing more than to get home and relax until dinnertime, but he doesn’t because of one customer. Ronan’s wallet lies in the passenger seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah has thought about holding off on returning it until tomorrow and he’s thought about simply handing it over to the police to take care of, but something about Ronan’s silence before he left the gelato shop hangs at Noah. He feels guilty about it. And Ronan probably dropped the wallet in a hurry to leave because of him. It’s sort of his fault for being too wrapped up in his own head to notice that it fell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A more honest part of Noah acknowledges that it’s more selfishness for self-satisfaction than anything else that causes him to drive to the Barns. He won’t be able to go to bed tonight without this somewhat resolved. He feels bad for caring more about whether or not he gets some peace of mind over this, but at least Ronan will get his wallet back in the process.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It should be a bad idea, trying to find his way to the Barns as the sky darkens above him. He might not remember the way, but for some reason, he does. It surprises him. Noah has only been there once for a project and yet his memory functions better when it’s recalling the path to somewhere than it does when he’s trying to remember who someone is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Autumn has started to make its presence known. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but the leaves have started to change colors. A few of the trees have bare branches. Noah almost can’t believe that it’s been more than four years since he last experienced autumn in Henrietta.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opens the window halfway down to let in some fresh air as he drives through the countryside and can’t help but smile. He’s missed this. There are a lot of things that New York City has that Henrietta doesn’t, but this is one thing Henrietta has that New York City definitely doesn’t: the quiet roads surrounded by farmland. The only sound is the sound of his Mustang passing over the asphalt. When he looks up, he can see the moon in the dark blue sky. It makes for nice company. He’s almost tempted to stop at the side of the road to take a nap, but pushes away that thought for some other time. He’s on a mission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he reaches the forests that surround the Barns, it’s quieter somehow. Quiet in a way that makes Noah think that everything about the forests is asleep. He wants to laugh at how silly that idea is, but he doesn’t. He keeps quiet, realizes that it’s because he doesn’t want to wake anything up, and shakes his head at himself. Maybe he does need a nap after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Barns unveils like a dream. Not in a way where it’s not there one moment and then there the next, but in a way where the parts of it slowly come together to make a whole. It’s as if Noah is remembering a dream that he has forgotten. The numerous barns come into view first, scattered about the hills, different colors that are now only vaguely different in the dark. He picks out two then four then eleven, and then Noah sees the rooftop of the farmhouse. It’s as if it’s growing out of the ground, the house emerging from top to bottom as Noah drives over the hill that blocks it from view. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah thinks that this is what the prince in Sleeping Beauty must have felt like as he walked around the slumbering castle. He’s intruding on something fragile and powerful, larger-than-life and lonely, and dormant and threatening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time, Noah rethinks his decision to come here, but he doesn’t make a U-turn. He keeps driving forward until he’s parked in front of the house. There’s no other car in sight. Maybe Ronan is still out and isn’t home yet. Part of Noah hopes so. It’ll probably be for the better if he can drop off Ronan’s wallet without having to see Ronan in the process, but that feels cowardly. He didn’t come out here so that he could avoid Ronan Lynch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah gets out of the car with the wallet and walks up the steps to ring the doorbell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a loud cry from inside the house, startling him, and as he’s trying to figure out what could’ve made the noise, a cold wind brushes across his skin. He tries rubbing warmth onto his arms and the back of his neck and his cheeks. There’s another cry, even louder than before, and Noah realizes what’s causing it. Ronan’s pet raven. Chainmail or Sawdust or something like that was her name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opens and light spills onto the porch, outlining the shape of Ronan with a raven on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan stares at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And keeps on staring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah holds up one of his hands in a halfhearted wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence stretches on for far too long. When Ronan finally breaks it, his voice is even more cold and demanding than it was at Dolce. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not lost on Noah that that’s the same question Ronan asked him earlier. He thinks about answering with “I work here” as a joke, but decides against it. He’s made one questionable decision already. He holds Ronan’s wallet out towards him. “You dropped your wallet at the gelato shop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan stares at the wallet as if he’s never seen it before in his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wallet remains on his hand in the space between them. Noah could swear it was Ronan’s photo on the driver’s license, but now he’s getting the urge to double-check if he somehow got it wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan takes the wallet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah doesn’t even get a moment to feel relief before Ronan is asking, “How did you get here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew the way,” Noah says. “We did a science project together, remember? I’ve been here once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan narrows his eyes. “You’ve been here once.” The words are a repetition and a question at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah nods. “Yeah.” It occurs to him that Ronan probably doesn’t believe that he would remember his way here after only one time. “I swear I haven’t come here more than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ronan nods, slowly, and Chainmail or Sawdust the raven shifts on his shoulder as if she’s getting impatient about something. Ronan glances over at her, gives her a scratch underneath her beak, and when he looks back at Noah, he’s silent for a moment, not long enough to give Noah time to think of something to say, but long enough that it begins to get awkward. “Thanks,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he shuts the door in Noah’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah stands there, unmoving and staring. He did not expect Ronan to invite him inside the house, but he didn’t think that the night would end like this either. The little image he had in his head, of him talking and Ronan laughing maybe, is swept away by the wind. Part of him wants to ring the doorbell again, so that this night can end off on a better note, but he walks back to his car, feeling worse than when he started out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls out of the driveway, closing his windows all the way up to keep out the cold. As he drives away, Noah glances in the rearview mirror and takes in one last look of the farmhouse. There are a couple of lights on, but for the most part, the windows are dark. Noah wonders if Ronan’s got company or if he’s only got the raven. It’s a big house to be alone by himself in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noah decides that he does want to see Ronan again at Dolce after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s about to focus back on the road in front of him, but just as Noah takes his eyes off of the rearview mirror, something registers in his vision right at the last second. He doesn’t catch the shape of it, but Noah thinks there was something on the road. When he checks, there’s nothing but empty darkness.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks so much for reading this first chapter! i plan to upload on sunday once every two or three weeks depending on how far ahead i can get with chapters. (i've already got chapter two done, but i'll rest easier if i can get four or five chapters written at least.) i hope that some of you will be willing to stick along for the journey. roah doesn't get a lot of fics, so it's been a long time coming that i do my part to fix that and any support is much appreciated. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Apologies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noah has another shift from noon until closing time the next day, but the day after that, he has no obligations other than to drive his youngest sister, Violet, to and from her friend’s house for a birthday party. Aside from that, he’s free to do what he wants, which he starts by sleeping in way past a time that his mom would consider reasonable. Violet has to show up knocking at the door to wake him up because he’s slept through his alarm.</p><p>“Hurry up, Noah!” She opens the door and looks down at him in irritation. “I don’t want to be late!”</p><p>Noah sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and giving her a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.” He looks around for his keys, spots them on the ground, and picks them up to toss them at Violet, who catches the keys easily. “You can go ahead and start the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”</p><p>Violet scrunches up her nose. “I’ll give you five minutes. You should at least brush your teeth.”</p><p>Noah laughs. “Thanks.”</p><p>In total, changing into brand new clothes and brushing his teeth takes him about four minutes. He grabs a pair of tennis shoes, slipping them on his way to the Mustang—Violet has already backed it out of the garage—and he’s trying to keep his balance on one leg when he opens the door and leans against the car to adjust the last shoe on his foot.</p><p>He’s in the middle of putting on his seatbelt when Violet asks, “How good does car sex have to be for a guy to forget his license?”</p><p>Noah’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He’s about to ask Violet what she’s talking about, sure that he probably heard wrong, but then he looks over and spots her holding up a driver’s license. A picture of Ronan meets his surprised stare with a signature glare, only turning away when Violet turns the plastic card to look at it.</p><p>“He’s hot,” she says.</p><p>Noah snatches the license out of her hand and slips it into his pocket. He reverses out of the driveway and drives onto the main road. “I did not sleep with him.” He thinks about a door closing in front of him. There’s no way Ronan Lynch would ever want to sleep with him. Assuming that Ronan would be interested in sleeping with guys in the first place, which Noah highly doubts.</p><p>“Did you meet him in New York?”</p><p>“He lives in Henrietta.” Noah hands Violet his phone and tells her to put in her friend’s address.</p><p>She puts it in and fixes the phone into the holder on the windshield. Noah knows that she’s going to ask about Ronan as soon as her moment of obedience is over.</p><p>He’s right.</p><p>“Why haven’t I seen him around before?”</p><p>Noah is about to answer that Ronan’s a bit of a recluse, but that doesn’t feel fair of him to say. “Don’t start looking, Violet. He’s too old for you.”</p><p>“No, he’s not. I saw his birthday. He was born in the same year as you.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” Noah says. “He’d get arrested if he dated you.”</p><p>He can feel Violet scrutinizing him. “Jeez, Noah, just say that he’s off limits next time.”</p><p>If he weren’t driving, this would be the part where Noah ruffles up Violet’s hair as she shouts in dismay. “He’s off limits, but not for the reason you’re suggesting.”</p><p>Violet laughs. “Sure.”</p><p>“Shut it.”</p><p>They smile at each other. Noah turns on the radio to the pop station and Violet comments that it sucks for her friend, Kayla, to have her birthday after the first week of school. That leads to them debating what time of the year is best to have a birthday. Noah thinks that it’s towards the end of November, but Violet shakes her head. May or June are the best months in her opinion. They agree to disagree.</p><p>Violet gives him a hug before she leaves. “Thanks for driving me.”</p><p>“Sure thing. Six o’clock?”</p><p>Violet thinks about it, leaning into the back to retrieve her present, a box wrapped in gold. “It might be later than that. I’ll notify you twenty minutes ahead of time.”</p><p>“Okay.” Noah gives her a salute. “Have fun.”</p><p>“You too, Ronan loverboy.”</p><p>Noah flips her off and Violet closes the door with a laugh.</p><p>Noah makes his way out of the neighborhood, debating what to do next. He had intended to go to the frog pit and see what sorts of tricks people were up to at the skatepark, but at the mention of Ronan, he considers revising his plans.</p><p>He didn't notice until Violet brought it to his attention that Ronan’s license had been left behind in his car. He remembers hearing back in the day about Ronan drag racing, wonders if Ronan still does that now, and thinks that it’s for the better if Ronan gets back his license as soon as possible. Maybe Ronan will be grateful that Noah saves him a trip to the DMV and things between them will start looking up.</p><p>The dream he had from last night reforms in his mind. It’d been of an alternate reality, one where he and Ronan had gotten closer from doing that science project together. Dream him had been able to say something that had gotten dream Ronan smiling. It’d felt nice. He struggles to remember what he said in the dream—and then feels silly for trying to do so. It’s not as if whatever his subconscious came up with would work in real life. The likelihood of it working is as likely as Ronan sleeping with him.</p><p>Noah shakes his head. Violet is giving him unnecessary thoughts.</p><p>He turns up the volume of the radio, shifts his attention to the road, and retraces the way back to the Barns. The full flush of fall colors are noticeable this time around, the reds and yellows and oranges of the oak trees that had been hidden in the darkness are brought out in the sunshine. Yet again, Noah puts down his window so that he can breathe in the fresh air. He passes by a farm tucked in the forest that he didn’t notice before. There are horses grazing at grass in a fenced area by the house and a single blue truck parked in front of it. The sight of it makes Noah itch to sit down and paint it onto a canvas, but he mentally jots that down as something to do another time.</p><p>The Barns is more inviting in the daytime. Noah is surprised by how unique the colors of the barns are: rose pink and light green and lavender and faded yellow. He wonders how long it must’ve taken for Ronan and his family to build them and can’t help but imagine Ronan as a kid shouting out color suggestions. There’s a childlike imagination to the appearance of the barns across the hills, resembling easter eggs tucked away in the grass.</p><p>Noah is even more surprised when the house comes into full view. Furniture has been spread out onto the porch and around the area in front of the house. It’s as if the chairs, tables, cabinets, floor lamps, and a single coat rack have been regurgitated. He has to park further down the road and walks through the furniture in slight awe, feeling like he’s in some wonderland curated by IKEA.</p><p>The front door is opened. Music spills out from it and what Noah hears is by far the most surprising thing about this entire scenario. The song is cheerful, the singer proclaiming about love at the top of his lungs, and it sounds like something Noah would expect to hear at a school dance from the nineteen fifties. Not coming out of Ronan Lynch’s house. It’s loud. Too loud for the doorbell to be heard over it, so Noah bypasses it altogether and steps carefully inside. He shouts Ronan’s name at the top of his lungs, but he’s not sure Ronan would have any luck hearing him over the music, so he walks forward, looking into the rooms for Ronan.</p><p>The hallway and the rooms are completely or mostly empty, which he expects given all the stuff outside. There’s an echo to the house, caused by the lack of carpet on the ground. Noah is assuming that Ronan is redoing the floors, judging by how whatever was there before has been stripped off and there are only dusty, sometimes marked subfloors left.</p><p>The music stops.</p><p>There’s a second of silence before a voice startles Noah from behind. “Let me guess. I have a second wallet that I left behind and you’re back to return it to me.” The tone is dry and unamused. Noah turns around to find Ronan with his arms crossed, the expression on his face mirroring the ones from last time.</p><p>Noah finds himself stammering like an idiot in reply, blushes, and reaches into his pocket for the license. “Here.”</p><p>Ronan glances at it, looking entirely unimpressed.</p><p>Noah gets the itching feeling that Ronan probably thinks he’s using it as an excuse to come back here. That he purposefully pocketed the license. He wants to tell Ronan that he’s wrong, but he doubts saying anything will make much of a difference, so he takes a deep breath and smiles as if they’re back at Dolce and Ronan is his customer. “Wouldn’t want to be pulled over by the cops and not have this at hand, would you?”</p><p>Ronan takes the license. “Why would the cops pull me over?”</p><p>“I’m just saying,” Noah gestures nonsensically in circles with his hands, “hypothetically.”</p><p>Ronan stares at him. “I don’t drag race much anymore if that’s what you’re implying.”</p><p>Noah holds back a wince. “Well, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”</p><p>“Gee, thanks.” Ronan turns away. “Now get lost.”</p><p>“Wait!” Noah walks after Ronan. “I can help you out if you want.”</p><p>Ronan picks a hammer off the ground. “I don’t want that.”</p><p>“But it’ll be easier with two people,” Noah says. “I haven’t really installed new floors before, but I’m a fast learner.”</p><p>Ronan doesn’t look at him and Noah follows him to the front door.</p><p>Noah glances outside at all the furniture. “Also, if I’m here, then you won’t have to carry everything back into the house by yourself.”</p><p>Ronan snorts. “You’re scrawny as fuck. It won’t make any difference if you help.”</p><p>Noah feels himself deflating, the momentum leaking out of him like helium from a balloon. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”</p><p>As soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of deja vu strikes him, leaving Noah standing there and wondering where he last heard it. The answer comes to him fast and quick, punctuated by the sound of the coat rack falling to the ground from a strong gust of wind. Noah remembers the joke he made in his dream and how Ronan had smiled at it. “And I’m an open book. With a lot of illustrations. It won’t take very long to read me.”</p><p>In real life, Ronan doesn’t smile. Instead, it looks like he gets angrier. He shoves Noah out of the house. “Can you leave already? I told you to get lost.”</p><p>Hurt stings at Noah, sharp and heavy. A memory flashes through his mind of the first time he ever saw Ronan and how Ronan had frowned across the distance of the frog pit at him. It’s always been like this. Maybe it’ll remain like this. Noah doesn’t give up easily, but he also knows when there’s probably no point in being stubborn. He looks down at his feet. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Noah looks up to find Ronan staring at him. He doesn't intend to look away again, but the intensity of Ronan’s eyes is too much, so he looks off to the side, focusing on a small single cushion sofa that’s at the end of the porch. “I don’t know what I did to…to…” <em> To make you dislike me like this. </em> He shakes his head. Scratch that. “I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten how I hurt you, but if I have hurt you, then I want you to know that I didn’t mean to. Or if I did, I want you to know that I was stupider back then, and if there’s any way that I can make it up to you now, you should let me know, because I want to make it up to you.”</p><p>Noah stops himself and lets out a little laugh that he doesn’t feel at all. He sounds like an absolute idiot. “Okay. Yeah, that was it. Sorry for taking up your time.”</p><p>“Noah…”</p><p>“I’ll leave now.” Noah turns away and heads back to the Mustang. He’s probably walking too fast, but he doesn’t care. All he wants to do is get in the car and drive away. His hands shake as he starts the engine. The lack of breakfast that he’s had is making him realize just how upset his stomach is, which makes him feel worse. At least he knows that what he wants to do next is eat away these messy feelings. He doesn’t look back up at the house as he drives away, keeping his eyes focused on the road in front of him, but he fails, looking back just before he drives down the hill that will obscure the house from view.</p><p>The space at the front door is empty. There’s no Ronan in sight.</p><p>Noah replays the sound of Ronan’s voice saying his name. He’s surprised that Ronan even knows his name at all.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Noah’s next shift at Dolce is not busy at all.</p><p>Autumn has fully sunk its claws into the air, pushing the sunny, oftentimes hot summer days out of the way and replacing it with a cloudiness and windiness that has no one particularly interested in going out for gelato. He debates rather it’s better or worse this way. Customers have a way of both speeding up and slowing down time, but mostly they keep him busy enough to forget the slow ticking of the clock, so he decides that it’s worse.</p><p>He doodles on his arm with a pen to occupy the minutes. It starts out without a purpose, swirls and shapes that don’t connect at all, but as he draws more and more, the picture starts to set in, resembling some contorted kaleidoscope pattern that he doesn’t quite manage to salvage. Violet will probably like it. Adele will say he can do better. His dad will give him an offhand compliment. His mom will estimate how long it’ll take for the black ink to wash off of his arm entirely.</p><p>He’s in the middle of detailing out this newest creation when the door opens.</p><p>Noah drops the pen onto the counter and looks up, ready to greet the customer, but the words get stuck in his throat when he sees that it’s Ronan walking up towards him. He ends up looking like an idiot with a stiff back and a gaping mouth instead.</p><p>The expression on Ronan’s face isn’t as severe as usual, but Noah kind of wishes that he had a coworker who could take over for him. Except he’s on his own, so he shakes himself out of his stupor, stresses the importance of good customer service to himself, and plasters on a smile that’s too stale to be genuine. “Welcome.”</p><p>Ronan doesn’t respond. He’s eyeing Noah in a way that causes the smile on his face to fall out of existence.</p><p>Noah looks down at the cash register. “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but I take it you’ll be getting pistacchio?”</p><p>“I’m not here for gelato.”</p><p>Noah traces a pentagon on the inside of his elbow with his eyes, at a loss on what to do next. “Uh, are you here for frozen yogurt?”</p><p>Ronan sighs, a sound that’s stronger and colder than the wind outside could possibly be. “Look Czerny. About the other day. I don’t want you to think…”</p><p>Ronan lets out another sigh and Noah feels like he’s going to be knocked off his feet by it. He’s still stuck on the first sigh. His nails are sinking into his palm as he waits for Ronan to finish what he has to say. It doesn’t sound bad, but it isn’t exactly reassuring either, and he’s aware of how tense he is, his shoulders are too squared and his jaw too clenched.</p><p>“Don’t take it so personally,” Ronan says. “I’m an asshole to everyone, alright?”</p><p>Noah laughs, surprising the both of them. There’s nothing really funny about this situation, but his relief has to come out in some way. His muscles loosen. “Well, if you put it that way, I guess it makes me feel a little less shitty.” Noah gives Ronan a smile that’s genuine and no longer stale. “An equal opportunity asshole.”</p><p>Ronan shrugs. “You can call it that.” He looks up at the menu. “I might as well get something while I’m here.”</p><p>“Pistachio?”</p><p>“Sure, but just a small cup.”</p><p>“That’ll be five dollars and eighty-six cents.”</p><p>Instead of using his credit card, Ronan pulls out a ten dollar bill and hands it over to Noah.</p><p>As Noah counts out the change, he hears Ronan tapping on the countertop. “You’ve got some obligation to be a good samaritan at least once a day, don’t you?”</p><p>“What?” Noah looks up and is caught off guard by how Ronan’s gotten closer from leaning against the counter. He’s nearer to eye level with Noah, blue eyes as watchful and inscrutable as ever. Noah steps back from them, places the change onto Ronan’s hand, and busies himself with getting the gelato scooped up.</p><p>“You said the other day that if there was something you can do to settle things that I should let you know,” Ronan says.</p><p>Noah nods. “I did.”</p><p>“I’m going to be out of town on Saturday, so I was thinking that you could check on my cows for me. I heard that it might be raining that day, so if it starts to look like it, all you need to do is move them from the pasture to the barn. It won’t be that hard. They’ll know what to do as soon as they see you open the barn door. Are you going to be free on Saturday?”</p><p>“I’ll be free.” Part of Noah wonders if he’s dreaming. This is the most that Ronan Lynch has spoken to him ever. </p><p>Ronan straightens from the counter and takes the cup of gelato from Noah’s hand. “Okay. Cool.” This must be Ronan speech for farewell, because he turns to leave, but he stops at the door with his back to it and faces towards Noah. “I like what you did with your arm, Czerny.”</p><p>He’s gone before Noah can respond, but with the embarrassed blush and the pleased smile that Noah has on his face, it’s probably for the better that Ronan doesn’t stay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i almost was about to wait until next week before posting this up, but i DID say "four or five chapters" that i intended to finish before i post this up so....... i'd feel more safe if i hadn't slacked off and had finished chapter five before posting this, but at least i'm not doing too bad on staying ahead. might be three weeks before i post chapter three tho.</p><p>EDIT: "the frog pit" is the name i personally came up with for the skatepark in henrietta</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noah rings the doorbell twice in quick succession and waits for someone to open the door. He rolls back and forth on his feet, balancing himself on his heels and then on his toes. There’s a welcome mat with flower patterns along the sides. Noah thinks that there’s got to be something lovely about a person for them to have a welcome mat like this. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching from within the house.</p><p>The old woman who opens the front door looks surprised to see him. She’s got a floral scarf wrapped around her head to keep back her hair, which makes it easy to guess who must’ve been responsible for the welcome mat. She looks like a grandma who would be both spunky and caring. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“Hi, yeah.” Noah gives her a slight wave of his hand. “I hope I’m not taking up your time, but I drove past your house the other day and couldn’t help thinking how beautiful this place looks. Could I possibly have your permission to come and do a painting of it some other day?”</p><p>“Oh my.” A corner of the woman’s mouth quirks up. “That’s flattering of you to say. No one has ever taken interest in painting something of this place before. I’d be honored.”</p><p>“Thank you so much.” Noah smiles, relieved and grateful. “I promise I won’t get in your way.”</p><p>“It’s no problem,” the woman says. “I’ll make sure to inform my family so that they don't get alarmed when a young man shows up all ready to paint, but I’m sure they will be delighted once they know. Especially my grandchildren.” She laughs. “What brings you out here?”</p><p>“Ronan, my…” Noah trails off, unsure how to complete that sentence. He and Ronan don’t have much of anything to their relationship for him to put a name to. Quickly, he decides to go for what he wants to be the case. “My friend lives out here. His farm is a couple of miles up the road.”</p><p>“Ah, the one with all the barns?”</p><p>“That’s the one.”</p><p>“Nice young man.” The woman nods. “He helped my son out once when his truck got stuck in the snow.”</p><p>Noah perks up at this little bit of information. He wants to ask more about Ronan, but the skies look like they’re threatening to pour at any moment and he wants to keep his promise to get the cows under cover, so he decides to practice some self-control. He can ask about it the next time he comes over. “Yup, that sounds like something Ronan would do.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Noah has underestimated the number of cows that Ronan would have. He thought that an entire portion of the field would be populated by cows, but instead he’s greeted by the sight of what appears to be a family of six within a large fenced area tucked between two hills. There are two calves who curiously come up to him when he nears. Ronan didn’t mention anything about whether or not he could interact with the cows, but Noah doesn’t think there’s any harm in at least reaching out a hand for them to look at. One of the calves sniffs at his fingers.</p><p>Noah smiles, wondering what the calf’s name is. “Nice you meet you. I’m Noah.”</p><p>One of the older cows is watching him, probably making sure Noah doesn’t abduct the little babies. Noah’s not too sure how protective cows are of their calves, but he doesn’t want to find out or get on their bad side, so he backs away. His jacket isn’t doing much to keep him warm and he regrets not listening to his mom to bring a heavier jacket, but the cold doesn’t stop him from thinking how nice it is, standing out in this grassy field of low, sloping hills.</p><p>It’s different from simply looking at it from the road, similar to watching a travel documentary versus standing in the actual place. It’s calm and quiet. He takes in the sight of the green fields, spreading out with the barns standing here and there like silent inhabitants, and the way the gray skies contrast against it, muting out any sound or movement that could possibly occur. It probably looks even more breathtaking with a blue sky.</p><p>Noah wants to do a painting of this scenery, too, but he doesn’t think Ronan would be as on board with the idea as the old woman at the house was.</p><p>The cows’ barn is at the side of the pasture. It’s been built within the fence, bigger in size than some of the other barns and is badly in need of a paint job, the red color having faded throughout time and from weather conditions. Noah makes a mental note of offering to paint it for Ronan. That’ll certainly make him feel like he’s doing more than showing up to open a door for the cows, which isn’t lost to Noah how easy the job is. Ronan could’ve done it himself before he left today.</p><p>Noah hops over the fence and makes his way over to the barn. One the calves follows after him, the other calf trailing after that one, and Noah laughs at the thought of all the cows walking in a line behind him.</p><p>It takes a lot more of his strength than he’d anticipated to open the door, but by the time he manages to fully get it open, all of the cows have gathered nearby. Noah likes to think that they’re curious and aren’t judging him. The inside of the barn is mostly empty. There’s hay spread out entirely across the ground. He stands off to the side to watch the cows as they all trickle into the barn.</p><p>It really is too easy. Noah feels like he should be doing more, but Ronan didn’t mention anything else, so once the last cow has entered the barn, he closes the door.</p><p>There’s a rumble in the sky, but it hasn’t started to rain yet. At least the cows are safe and sound. The wind picks up, causing the bottom of his jacket to flap in the wind and his hair to whip about. Noah shivers, zips up his jacket, and starts to make his way back to the car, but when he looks up, he spots a figure in the distance. He squints. The person is too far away for him to make out their face, but he can tell that they’re looking in his direction.</p><p>His eyebrows draw together in confusion. Ronan? Maybe he got back early from wherever he went to. Or maybe he didn’t trust Noah to do a good job and had stayed behind to make sure that he would.</p><p>The person holds up a hand in greeting.</p><p>Noah finds himself hesitating to return the gesture, but he waves back. Something is telling him that it’s not Ronan. And he’s starting to feel really bad for doubting Ronan.</p><p>The person has started to walk towards the farmhouse.</p><p>Maybe Ronan isn’t the only person living at the Barns. He should’ve asked about that. Hopefully Ronan told the person that Noah would be showing up today. Noah will introduce himself to whoever it is. He’s left his car parked in front of the house, so they’ll end up crossing paths if the person hasn’t gone inside the house.</p><p>Noah picks up his pace. The sooner he gets out of this wind the better. He hasn’t been ready to let go of summer and this weather isn’t helping with making him look forward to the change. He thought that Henrietta autumns were tamer than this, but maybe that was just wishful thinking to look forward to for when he left New York City.</p><p>He passes by multiple barns. Most of the doors to the barns are closed, but a few of them are opened, which Noah has already peeked into when he was making his way to the pasture. To his disappointment and contrary to his expectations, the barns are empty. It makes Noah wonder what’s even the point of having so many barns. Maybe they’re just there for decoration. Or they were used at some point before—</p><p>A loud crash sends him nearly jumping out of his skin.</p><p>Noah stops. It had sounded like a bunch of things clattering to the ground and he pinpoints the source of it from a nearby barn, yellow green in color and with the door opened a crack. Noah doesn’t remember it being one of the barns that had previously been opened. He runs towards it, sure that the person from earlier might be in need of help, and he slips inside. “Hey! Are you alright?”</p><p>It’s hard to make anything out. There are windows along the side of the barn, but the lack of sun outside has made the interior dim. It appears to be empty, but Noah cups his hands to his mouth and shouts to ask again if the person is alright.</p><p>A sound causes him to turn around just in time to see the barn door being closed. Noah runs towards it, tries to open it, but he’s been locked in from the outside.</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>Ronan didn’t tell whoever else lived with him that Noah was coming after all.</p><p>He bangs on the door. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding! Ronan asked me to come over today to bring the cows inside in case it rained. I swear I’m not here to steal the cows and I’m sorry if I alarmed you! Please let me out.”</p><p>There’s no answer. Noah goes quiet, listens for footsteps or a voice or anything else, but he can only hear the wind blowing against the outside of the barn. He brings his hands down from the door and tries again for a response. “Are you still there?”</p><p>No one is there. He looks around for a hole in the wood to look through, but there’s nothing. He steps back from the door with a sigh and sits down on the ground at a loss for what to do. He can’t even call for help, cursing himself for leaving his phone behind in his car. What’s the point of having Ronan’s neighbors in his contacts if he can’t use it for this situation?</p><p>Hopefully he won’t be stuck here for long. Maybe the person has called the police on him. His parents won’t be happy about it, but it won’t be too bad if it means he can get out sooner. Noah feels the ground around him. There’s nothing but wooden floors that are dirty or dusty, but he doesn’t care, lying onto his back to stare upwards. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of light and once it does, all he sees is a long stretch of space that goes all the way up to the ceiling of the barn.</p><p>Noah yawns. It might not be too bad. He can take a nap until the hypothetical police get here or Ronan gets back, but sleep doesn’t come to Noah as easily as he would like. There’s too many things going on in his mind. </p><p>He wishes that he had asked Ronan for more details. The thought of Ronan not coming back for a week doesn’t sit well with him, but he tries to ignore thinking down that train of thought. If that becomes the case, then he’ll have to find a way to get up to the windows and break his way out. Or he can look around for something to use to create a gap in the wall to escape through. He amuses himself with the thought of finding a spoon to dig himself an underground tunnel with as if he’s some cartoon character.</p><p>He considers taking off his jacket to create a makeshift pillow for him to put his head on, but even inside the barn, there’s a chill, so he decides against it, instead turning onto his side and resting his head onto his arms. Thunder grumbles from above, the sound of it resounding like there’s a giant walking through the hills. He wishes he’d gotten locked in with the cows. It would smell, but at least he would have company.</p><p>He’ll have to ask Ronan what he named the cows. If it were up to Noah, he’d probably name them after the Addams family. There’s enough of them for things to work out. And then the calves can be Wednesday and Pugsley. He’s not sure which one he’d name the calf who sniffed at his hand, but decides that he prefers Wednesday.</p><p>After a while, Noah runs out of nonsensical thoughts to pass the time with, leaving him alone with the cold and the wind and dimness. He doesn’t feel tired at all now. His mind is on hyperdrive, scrambling for something new to think about and latching onto tendrils of his dream from last night. It’d been the second dream he had since Ronan came back into his life that’s had Ronan in it. He doesn’t often have recurring dreams about people that he’s met, but then again, most people aren’t Ronan Lynch.</p><p>Ronan had been smiling in his dream—he tries not to dwell too much on how sad it is that he’s only seen Ronan smile in his dreams—and they’d been someplace filled with so many things. He struggles to remember what the objects were, but the impression that they left is all that remains: wonder and awe and joy. Ronan had watched him in the dream, not speaking but smiling and sometimes opening his mouth as if he was laughing. Noah didn’t hear the sound of it. It was as if Ronan’s laughter had been muted; his mind probably unable to conjure up what it would sound like from never having heard it in reality.</p><p>A noise startles Noah out of his thoughts. At first, hope flares in his chest, flowing from the expectation that someone’s come to open the door, but then he hears the noise again and realizes that it’s coming from inside of the barn. Not outside of it. It’s the sound of shuffling footsteps, moving from the back of the barn, and although it should be nice that he doesn’t have to be alone after all, an icy sense of dread grips at Noah. He doesn’t know why someone would have been with him this entire time and chosen to wait to make their presence known.</p><p>He can’t come up with any good answers to that.</p><p>There’s a small part of him yelling at him to get up, move, do something, but Noah is frozen in place and his throat is tightening from the pressure to scream. He wants to close his eyes shut the way he did as a kid when the thought of monsters would scare him in the dark, but this is different. There’s no blankets to wrap himself under, nobody for him to shout for, and nowhere for him to escape to.</p><p>The sound of the footsteps stop.</p><p>In the awful stillness, Noah becomes aware of how loudly his heart is beating in his ears. He tries to estimate how much of a distance is still between him and whatever is there, but fails. He can’t concentrate, can’t move his body, and all he can do is close his eyes shut the way he did as a kid.</p><p>Except that the monster might be real now.</p><p>There’s a breath by his ear. He wishes that it were the wind, but he can’t fool himself into thinking that it is and curls up into a ball, squeezes his eyes close even tighter, and presses his hands to his mouth.</p><p>The monster whispers, “<em>Don’t tell your dear Ronan that I was here—</em>”</p><p>“Noah?”</p><p>Noah’s eyes burst open. There’s an ache in his neck and drool at the corner of his mouth and it’s pitch black.</p><p>“Noah!”</p><p>Noah sits up. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, mixing with the overwhelming relief he feels at the recognition of who the voice belongs to. He runs to the door and starts pounding on it. “Ronan! Ronan, I’m in here!”</p><p>Ronan calls out his name again. He sounds further away than Noah would like, but he keeps on hitting the door and yelling Ronan’s name in response until Ronan gets closer to where he is. It’s only when Ronan’s voice comes from the other side of the barn that Noah’s fists come to a stop. Calm trickles into him.</p><p>It doesn’t surprise Noah that—once the door is unlocked and opened—he throws his arms around Ronan. He presses his face against Ronan’s shoulder and tightens his hold around Ronan to hide the fact that he’s shaking, trying to hide the fact away from himself. He tells himself that he’s no longer alone, that he’s no longer trapped, and that he’s no longer dreaming, but it takes him a long moment to fully believe any of it. He’s breathing heavily and his heart is pounding fast, but things are better now.</p><p>He’s thankful that Ronan lets him, remaining quiet in the process, not bothering to waste either of their time with unnecessary questions. Nighttime has fallen. It’s so dark that he can’t see past the spot that’s lit up by the flashlight Ronan carries. He was asleep for hours.</p><p>Embarrassment rears its familiar head once the calm has settled. Noah lets go, steps back, and is unable to meet Ronan’s eyes. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to, uh… I…” He stops to reorient himself. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Have you had dinner yet?”</p><p>The question surprises Noah into looking up. There’s the usual severity in Ronan’s expression, made even more prominent in the dark, but it isn’t so sharp anymore. Noah knows it isn’t directed at him. For a second, he forgets that Ronan’s asked him a question to answer. It’s only when Ronan raises an eyebrow that he snaps out of it, feeling like an idiot as he shakes his head. “No, not yet, but I—”</p><p>“Come on.” Ronan starts in the direction of the house.</p><p>Noah follows without hesitation. He stays by Ronan’s side, not wanting to be left behind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i DID say "spooky elements" in the tags ;)</p><p> </p><p>heads-up: it might be four weeks instead of three until i post up the next chapter. i did not get as much written as i should've these past three weeks, so i plan to make up for that in these upcoming weeks (hopefully). ((i'm surprised that i'm still making progress to begin with. it's unusual for me.))</p><p> </p><p>also, comments and/or kudos will be much appreciated! let me know what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Smile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ha, the fourth chapter posted on the fourth.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You lied to me.”</p><p>Ronan frowns in confusion. He’s sitting on another side of the dinner table, the only thing in front of him is a steaming mug of coffee or tea that’s been left mostly untouched on a coaster. It’s all so normal, but Noah has trouble grasping that he’s in Ronan Lynch’s house, sitting at his table and eating food that was probably cooked by him. It’s too unreal to be real. His mind is a mess, stupidly choosing at random something to say that he wants to take back the moment he says it.</p><p>Noah smiles weakly and backtracks in an attempt to explain himself. “I talked to one of your neighbors today. She mentioned that you helped her son out when his car got stuck in a snowbank.” His weak smile turns shy. “And you helped me out today, too. You’re not the asshole that you say you are.”</p><p>“I can be an asshole and helpful at the same time,” Ronan says with a shrug.</p><p>“An asshole wouldn’t have bothered to come out and find me.” Noah looks down at his plate. The chicken alfredo is good, but he doesn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. He takes another bite anyways, not wanting Ronan to think that he doesn’t appreciate the food or that he’s acting like some stubborn little kid. He already feels like one from earlier, grabbing onto Ronan like he was some parent checking on Noah after he woke up from a nightmare. It can’t get any more pathetic than that.</p><p>Noah keeps his head down out of embarrassment; hears rather than sees Ronan get up from the table and leave the room. He lets out a long breath before shoveling some more alfredo in his mouth. He should hurry up and leave already.</p><p>His plate has only passed being half empty when Ronan reappears. Noah almost expected Ronan to not show up again, assuming Ronan had gotten tired for the night and was leaving him to finish up by himself. He looks up as Ronan walks back into the dinning room and doesn’t catch what’s in Ronan’s hand until Ronan tosses it onto the table in front of him.</p><p>It’s a bunch of color samples, the kind he sees in the hardware store by the paint section. Their presence is completely unexpected. Noah has no clue why Ronan puts them in front of him, but before he can ask, Ronan is already speaking.</p><p>“What color would look good on these walls?”</p><p>Noah blinks in surprise. “Why are you asking me?”</p><p>Ronan gives him a look that makes Noah want to take back his question, but it’s too late. Flustered, he swallows an apology and focuses back on finishing his alfredo.</p><p>After a moment, Ronan says, “I need someone to weigh in with an opinion.”</p><p>“Oh.” Noah nods. He arranges the color samples neatly on the table, eyes them, and looks around the room as he visualizes what colors would suit it. It’s a small dining room, the dining table takes up most of its space, and Noah would suggest that Ronan gets a smaller table, but that’s not what he’s being asked about, so he takes in the pictures on the wall, the wooden flooring, and the small chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. It might help to go with a color that will make the room appear bigger than it is. He looks through the color choices and points at a buttercup yellow color. “This one would be my first choice.”</p><p>Ronan considers it in silence. It goes on long enough that Noah starts to worry that he failed some sort of test. He chews through two bites of alfredo before Ronan speaks up again. “You’ve got a good eye.”</p><p>Noah holds back a smile. “I took a color theory class in college,” he says. “What other colors were you considering?”</p><p>Ronan gestures at the samples. “You’re looking at them.”</p><p>Gray. Pale shades of blue and green and yellow. Peach. They’re all good choices. “Honestly, any of them would work.”</p><p>“And yet you chose the yellow.”</p><p>Noah wants to put a disclaimer that it’s his own personal preference and not the only right answer, but he gets the feeling that that’s not what Ronan is going for. He points up at the chandelier. “I was thinking that yellow might work better if you’re thinking about keeping this light. The white color you’ve got now looks kinda sickly with it, which is going to happen with some of the other colors. Incandescent lights and yellow walls together will make the room look brighter.”</p><p>Ronan nods, expression contemplative and understanding.</p><p>Noah munches the last of his alfredo and waits to swallow it down so that he’s not talking with his mouth full. “Let me know if you need any help with things. I’m a good painter.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Noah raises his eyebrows. “You do?”</p><p>Ronan shrugs. “I saw that there was a sketchbook in your car and you just mentioned learning about color theory. I can put two and two together. You’re an art major, right?”</p><p>For some reason, Noah turns bashful. “Yeah well, I’ve always wanted to do something art-related, but I’m not so sure how good that’s going to go. That’s kind of why I’m back in Henrietta: to figure things out. Getting a bachelor’s degree was one step, but I didn’t think too far ahead to the next step. Big mistake.”</p><p>It’s depressing him to talk about this, so Noah clears his throat and changes the subject. “What have you been up to these past couple of years?”</p><p>“Wreaking havoc.” Ronan stands up from his chair, puts the color samples into a pile, and picks up Noah’s plate and cup. “Feel free to use the shower if you want.”</p><p>Noah does a double-take, unsure if he’s heard right. “What?”</p><p>“It’s almost one,” Ronan says. “You might as well sleep over.”</p><p>Below the table, Noah pinches himself on the arm, hard enough to leave his skin stinging, but even then, he wonders if he’s actually awake and not dreaming up this entire thing. “I-It’s fine.”</p><p>“You’re right. It <em> is </em>fine. I’ve got a bunch of spare rooms.” Ronan heads out the door. “Bathroom’s upstairs at the end of the hallway to the right. I’ll leave some clothes for you on the doorknob.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Being invited inside the house to eat was already a lot for Noah to grasp, but using the same shower that Ronan Lynch uses every day has him feeling like he’s going through an out-of-body experience. He can’t believe that any of it is happening and has to keep reminding himself of what happened for him to get to this point. Maybe he should’ve protested more, but it probably wouldn’t have worked and it’s not as if Noah is in the mood to be driving this late at night—especially not after having a nightmare like the one that he had in the barn.</p><p>He’s had nightmares throughout the years, but it occurs to Noah that it’s been a while since he’s had one as bad as the one he recently had. Hell, if he thinks about it more, the last time he had a nightmare that felt so real was before he left Henrietta.</p><p>Noah gives himself a hard shake in the head. He doesn’t want to be dwelling on this. It makes it hard to close his eyes to the shampoo dripping down his face when it feels as if there’s a phantom breath in his ear. He hums a disco song to distract himself, quickly finishes up and dries himself with a towel from the rack, feeling his face heat up when the thought crosses his mind that maybe Ronan’s used the towel. He gives himself a slap on the face to knock himself out of it.</p><p>Unfortunately, he’s back to blushing when he’s staring at the clothes that Ronan left outside the bathroom door. Noah gives himself another slap. To his surprise, the blue flannel pajamas fit him pretty well, the legs of the bottoms not too long and the shirt not too baggy on his frame. Noah assumes it probably belonged to Ronan when he was shorter and remembers that Ronan’s got a younger brother, so it could also possibly be his.</p><p>After he’s rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, Noah leaves the bathroom and steps out into the hallway, uncertain of where to go from here. One of the doors to a bedroom is opened by a crack with light coming out of it. He heads towards it, uncertain if it’s Ronan’s bedroom or the bedroom he’s going to be sleeping in, but it’s a start.</p><p>The door opens as he’s about to enter. Noah walks face first into Ronan, his nose bumping against Ronan’s chest, and he brings a hand up to it, sure that his cheeks are reddening as he avoids making eye contact.</p><p>“Sorry about that.”</p><p>Noah tries not to think about how nice Ronan had smelled. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Noah lets go of his nose and gives Ronan what he hopes looks like a reassuring smile.</p><p>It must be convincing, because Ronan doesn’t say anything else and steps back to let Noah in. The room isn’t too remarkable, sufficing as a bedroom and nothing more. There’s nothing left to mark what the person who last slept in it was like. The walls are blank, the closet is empty, and the only furniture is a single-sized bed and a desk with a lamp on it in the corner. The curtains are drawn closed over the window; dark brown in color, matching the color palette of the pillowcases and blankets.</p><p>There’s no way it’s Ronan’s room and Noah refrains from asking who the room belonged to.</p><p>“Thanks for letting me spend the night here.”</p><p>Ronan lifts up one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I’d feel bad about making you go home after the day you had.”</p><p>Noah smiles. “See? You’re not an asshole.”</p><p>“Believe what you want.”</p><p>Ronan moves to leave the room and close the door, but before he can, Noah can’t help but blurt out, “Hey, can I ask you a question real quick?”</p><p>“You can, but I might not answer.”</p><p>Noah doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be a joke, but he thinks the response is funny and laughs at it. “What are the names of your baby cows?”</p><p>The question must have surprised Ronan, because it takes a few seconds before he answers. “Aisling and Brendan.”</p><p>Noah’s smile widens. “<em>The Secret of Kells</em>?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“I love that movie!”</p><p>“Of course you do,” Ronan says—and Noah’s heart misses a beat when Ronan punctuates his words with a smile.</p><p>It’s not a big smile. Only one corner of Ronan’s mouth lifts up and even then, it’s an almost miniscule movement. If Noah hadn’t been paying close attention, he would’ve missed it, but he sees it and it might as well be the biggest smile he’s ever seen. It’s close enough to being a smirk, but Ronan’s expression is too mild for it to be anything other than a smile. Noah’s so captivated that it takes him way too long to realize that he’s been staring like a complete weirdo.</p><p>He can tell that Ronan has noticed, but to his complete relief, Ronan doesn’t comment on it. “Get a good night’s sleep, Czerny.”</p><p>“You too, Ronan.”</p><p>For the first time since they crossed paths at Dolce, Noah is glad to have a closed door follow after Ronan. He almost locks the door, but his legs feel weak, so he sits on the bed and stares down at his hands. He’s so mortified. And so turned on. He thinks about maggots, drowning at sea, and that marionette puppet he once saw behind a stage he helped build a set for.</p><p>Nothing works, instead the images fade in comparison to the hug from earlier that his mind is overwriting with new facts. He’d been too disoriented and caught up in adrenaline to care about clinging to Ronan, but now Noah’s struck by the thought of what if that hadn’t been the case. What if he had been aware of how Ronan smells of something between cinnamon and nutmeg? What if he had looked up to see Ronan smiling down at him? What if Ronan had pulled Noah closer and wrapped his arms tight around him?</p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He’s even harder now.</p><p>Noah stumbles over to lock the door, but when he turns around, the sight of the bedroom stops him in his tracks, reminding him that Ronan has offered this place for him to sleep in. Not to masturbate in like a creep.</p><p>That does the trick, the guilt killing his libido and causing him to fall face-first onto the bed. It feels wrong to be getting horny over a guy who’s done nothing but help him out during the past few hours. He turns his head onto the side, grimaces at himself, and stares at nothing in particular until the desk in the corner catches his attention.</p><p>Noah gets up from the bed. He needs to distract himself and drawing always does the trick. He hopes that there’ll at least be some writing utensils and paper in the drawers of the desk; he’s not in the mood to go out to his car and fetch his drawing utensils and his sketchbook. To his slight surprise, there’s some pens in the top drawer along with a notebook, which he picks up and flips through, but the notebook has been unused and is just as blank as the rest of the room.</p><p>He purposefully hadn’t asked Ronan who’s room this was, aware that it belongs to family members who are no longer living in the house due to moving out or worse. Noah remembers hearing stories about the death of Ronan’s dad back in the day. Nothing he ever believed in. Most of the stories had been sensationalized and too far fetched to be real, but regardless of how it happened, Noah can only imagine how much it hurts to lose a parent too early on. Thinking about this is only adding to the gross heaviness that he feels.</p><p>Noah puts pen to paper. He pushes everything to the side to the point where his mind is no longer distracted by thoughts. He doesn’t even focus too much on what he should draw, going instead with moving his hand in a way that feels right. For a few minutes, he does nothing but scribble the pen across paper, darkening the white space into shadows. It’s different from what he’s used to. Drawing with a pen is not his medium of choice, but he doubts that there’s any paint in this room and he didn’t bring any with him in his car.</p><p>The shading ceases. He starts to draw out the shape of a person—and stops once he realizes what it reminds him of.</p><p>He’s drawing out his nightmare. Or at least, what could’ve happened in his nightmare if the sound of Ronan’s voice hadn’t woken him up.</p><p>When he started to eat the chicken alfredo earlier, Ronan had asked him how he got locked in the barn. Noah remembers exploring the barn, having the wind slam the door closed, and had answered with that because it felt right, but the nightmare felt so real that he almost isn’t sure what was part of it and what wasn’t. What was in his dream—the figure in the distance, the noise in the barn, the voice in his ear—feels like it actually happened. It unsettles him. Nightmares shouldn’t be able to bleed so strongly into reality and cause him to be as confused as he is.</p><p>Noah rips up the drawing, over and over again until it’s little shreds of paper, and quietly walks out to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet.</p><p>He leaves the lamp on when he finally goes to bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>noah: *almost wanks off to ronan's smile*<br/>me: oh la la</p><p> </p><p>sorry folks but the upload schedule's going to be switched to a chapter every four weeks because i'm a not-so-great writer. i know two or three weeks would be preferable, but alas - although as soon as i'm able to make good progress ahead i'll switch back to that. i am hoping that that happens.</p><p>have a fun and spooky october! maybe you'll get locked up in a barn and end up having a nightmare, too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Laughter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whoa, four weeks passed by in a flash! here's a new chapter for you all. i hope everyone had a good halloween :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The look that Adele gets on her face is the signature Adele look: a cross between a disapproving grimace and a judgemental side-eye. That’s all Noah needs to know what she thinks of the bouquet he’s carrying in his hands, but since it’s Adele, she feels the need to elaborate.</p><p>“That bouquet makes it look like you’re trying to woo the old woman,” she says. “Not thank her.”</p><p>Noah puts the bouquet back and looks again at the display. He’s not really a flower guy, so he has no idea what he’s doing. In his eyes everything looks pretty and like the right one to give to Catherine, the old woman who allowed him to do a painting of her house. Ronan’s neighbor. “What would you suggest?”</p><p>Adele eyes the bouquets, picks one up that’s made of mostly campanulas, and takes another moment to consider it. “This might be good,” she says at last. “They’re pretty, but not too corny. And I’m pretty sure campanulas represent gratitude.”</p><p>Noah nods. He’d be fine with any of the bouquets, but this one fits what he was looking for. “I think they’re nice.”</p><p>Adele looks at him out of the corner of her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You think all of them are nice, Noah.”</p><p>Noah laughs. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve got you.”</p><p>“Well, now that we’ve gotten this taken care of, we should go find Violet and make sure she hasn’t stocked up on way too many snacks,” Adele says, carefully placing the bouquet in the child seat of the shopping cart.</p><p>She begins to pull away, but Noah hears his name being called and they both turn around to see a middle-aged man walking up to them. At first, Noah doesn’t recognize who it is, but then it clicks in his head.</p><p>He makes a backwards waving motion at his sister. “It’s a teacher I had when I was going to Aglionby,” he says. “You can go ahead, Adele.”</p><p>Adele shrugs and goes off in search of Violet, leaving Noah behind to greet Mr. Tuttle, lectures of American literary periods and seminars on Shakespeare returning back to him like ghosts from the past. Noah was never a big reader, but Mr. Tuttle had been one of his more enthusiastic teachers, which had made his class one of the more bearable English classes that Noah had had to sit through.</p><p>“Noah Czerny, is that you?”</p><p>Noah smiles. “In the flesh. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Tuttle.”</p><p>“It’s nice to see you, too.” Mr. Tuttle holds out his hand for a handshake, which Noah returns. “Always nice to cross paths with my old students. How have you been?”</p><p>“Good. Graduated from a New York art school and I’m back in Henrietta for a visit.” He’s not telling the complete truth about why he’s back in Henrietta, but Noah figures that phrasing it as a visit somewhat covers things. Plus, it sounds less serious than him coming back to Henrietta because he had no idea where to go from New York City, the struggle almost causing him to have a breakdown during a phone call with his mom, who had picked up on it and invited him back to Henrietta to cool his head. Yeah, he doesn’t want to go into the full story. “What’s Aglionby been like since I left?”</p><p>“Oh, the same old thing,” Mr. Tuttle says. “Although I’m sure you would be proud to know that Raven Day has become an annual tradition.”</p><p>“Really?” Noah grins. “That’s amazing!”</p><p>He’s more than proud to know. He’s shocked and thrilled, almost unable to believe that the silly idea he came up with has become an continuous thing, and tries to imagine the crowds of students with paper mache ravens animated in the air above them, but he can only imagine how it had happened when he was at Aglionby during his last year. There’d been a big turn out, but it hadn’t been a school-wide celebration at that point. He’s thankful that one of his friends had pushed him into making it happen, making a mental note to himself to remember who it was so that he can contact them to possibly reconnect.</p><p>Noah asks more about it and ends up having a conversation with Mr. Tuttle that progresses from Raven Day to what has continued to stay the same at Aglionby as a whole.</p><p>After a moment, Noah says that he should get going, sure that Adele is probably waiting somewhere in the grocery store with a Violet who will or has gotten on her nerves.</p><p>Mr. Tuttle nods in understanding. “Of course, sorry for taking up your time.”</p><p>“Don’t be. It’s nice to talk to a familiar face. I haven’t really seen anyone else I knew from Aglionby,” Noah says, but then he realizes that’s not actually true. “Well, aside from Ronan Lynch. He was a classmate of mine who was in the same year as me.”</p><p>“Ronan Lynch?” Mr. Tuttle looks like he recognizes the name. Noah figures that Ronan had also been one of his students and watches as his past teacher’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh, there’s one thing that changed. Ronan was the Latin teacher at Aglionby for three years.”</p><p>“He is?” Noah’s eyes widen at the information. To say that Noah would have ever expected that would be a complete lie. He tries to imagine Ronan as a teacher, but can’t imagine it at all. He wasn’t even aware that Ronan was good at Latin. Let alone good enough at Latin to teach it.</p><p>“Was,” Mr. Tuttle corrects him. “He quit before this year. I’m not sure why…”</p><p>Noah thinks about how he had asked Ronan what he’d done during the past four years. “Wreaking havoc” Ronan had said. Clearly Ronan had opted out of telling him a lot of details. It makes Noah wonder what else Ronan hadn’t bothered to mention.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The frog pit on a Thursday at noon is much more empty than it is the last time Noah was there on Sunday. He’s been coming to the place to skateboard, the frog pit being the only skate park in Henrietta, but he’s also been hoping he’d crossed paths with anyone he knew from back then, only to find out that things change a surprising amount. He sees nothing but new faces at the skatepark. It’s as if everyone he knew from before got replaced with a totally different group of people—who are as interesting as those he used to know, but it’s a bit of a bummer not to come across a familiar face.</p><p>He hasn’t made the mistake of coming to the frog pit today in hopes of that. People are either at school or work, and the only ones who are there are a few high school kids who tell him that they’re on their lunch break when he asks about school. They flip the question around on him, causing Noah to laugh.</p><p>“I don’t have school anymore,” he says. “I’m a grown-up with a job.”</p><p>“Then why aren’t you at your job?” One of the boys asks him.</p><p>“I don’t have a shift today.”</p><p>That finishes their introductions. Noah skateboards with the high school kids, showing off some of the tricks that he can do and wowing them in the process. They’re pretty good, too, but there are some tricks that Noah can do that they aren’t able to, which they ask him to teach them how to do. Noah talks them through a three hundred sixty inward double heelflip, demonstrating the steps he broke that one down into in order to accomplish it, as the boys listen with rapt attention.</p><p>It’s a disappointment when they leave. Noah almost wants to tell them that he used to ditch school to come to the frog pit when he was their age, so he can’t blame them if they decide to do the same, but he shouldn’t be encouraging them just because he doesn’t want to be alone. Instead, he waves the boys goodbye, watching them skate off together from his perch at the top of a quarter pipe.</p><p>He lets out a sigh once they disappear from sight and remains sitting. He misses his friends. It’s been nice to come back to Henrietta so that he can see his family, but hanging out with people he knew from back in the day sounds good right about now—although no one that he kept in touch with after graduating from Aglionby is in Henrietta anymore. Apparently nobody wanted to remain in this small town when they could be somewhere else. Noah guesses he can’t blame them. He’s sort of the same after all. Everyone dispersed as soon as they were able to. </p><p>Noah stands up, gets on his skateboard, and readies to go down the ramp.</p><p>Then again, there’s <em> one </em> person who stuck around.</p><p>He looks up, eyes widening when he spots someone sitting underneath one of the trees along the outer edge of the frog pit, and realizes that it’s Ronan no less—as if Ronan has known Noah thought of him and has materialized out of thin air to trip him up.</p><p>And trips Noah up he does. The surprise causes Noah not to think correctly, so that his skateboard ends up going off ahead of him, sliding down the ramp as he follows after in the most embarrassing fall of his life. Thankfully, it’s not a big fall and he’s used to falling from skateboarding, but he’s never done it like this and not in front of Ronan Lynch. Noah almost considers snatching up his skateboard and running for it, but Ronan is looking his way.</p><p>“Oh hell.” Maybe he can salvage his reputation somehow.</p><p>Noah skates over to Ronan, his hands in his pockets, and tries his best to look laidback, so that he can get across that he’s usually not that big of a failure when he’s skateboarding. And also to appear as if he isn’t experiencing a slight mental breakdown over Ronan being here.</p><p>The morning after he spent the night at Ronan’s place, Noah had gone home early, but he left a piece of paper with his phone number on the dining table. Ronan hadn’t called him. Part of Noah has been thinking that he won’t see Ronan again now that he’s got no reason to.</p><p>As he nears closer, Ronan shouts out at him, “Are you okay?”</p><p>Noah feels his cheeks redden. So much for trying to appear laidback. “Yeah, I’m fine.”</p><p>“I would’ve given you a heads-up if I knew that was going to happen,” Ronan says. It sounds like Ronan speech for “sorry.”</p><p>Noah can’t help but smile. “Really. Don’t worry about it. Falling flat on my ass is part of the skateboarding experience.” He stops in front of Ronan and steps on the end of his skateboard, making it come up for him to hold the other end of it. He joins Ronan underneath the tree. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Taking a break from painting walls.”</p><p>“Oh! What color did you pick?”</p><p>“Guess.”</p><p>Noah points at the yellow cape on his Robin t-shirt and quizzically raises an eyebrow at Ronan.</p><p>“Close enough,” Ronan says.</p><p>Noah laughs. Something like happiness flutters in his chest. “I’m glad I could help.”</p><p>Since he’s got an excuse to be looking, Noah does his best to take in the sight of Ronan. His initial surprise at Ronan being here is dying off when he recalls that Ronan came to the skate park back in the day. The frog pit <em> is </em> where he saw Ronan for the first time and Noah remembers seeing Ronan a few times afterwards, sitting on the outer edges of the frog pit like he’s doing now, but never skateboarding.</p><p>Noah is about to ask if Ronan even knows how to skateboard, but then the conversation that he had with Mr. Tuttle at the grocery store pops up in his head. He’s more curious about what he learned from that, so he leans back on his hands and stretches his legs across the grass, deciding to ease into the topic. “I ran into one of my English teachers from Aglionby the other day.”</p><p>“That’s nice.”</p><p>“He told me something interesting about you.”</p><p>Something trickles into Ronan’s blank expression. Noah can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, but it brings back edges into Ronan’s face and makes Noah want to make a U-turn away from where he was directing their conversation. He didn’t think much of it, but maybe this is a touchy topic for Ronan. If that’s the case, then it’s not worth quenching his curiosity. Especially if Ronan goes back to disliking him over it.</p><p>Except that before he can say anything Ronan is asking, “What’d he say?”</p><p><em> Crap. </em>“Um, ah, he was just telling me that you taught Latin at Aglionby,” Noah says. “It surprised me. I wouldn’t have expected it, but I thought it was cool to find out you were a teacher.”</p><p>Ronan gives Noah a look out of the corner of his eye. “‘Taught Latin.’ ‘Were a teacher.’ You’re talking in a lot of past tense.”</p><p>Noah’s no longer leaning back on his hands; instead, he’s moved them into his lap and he’s looking down at them, slightly hunched over. “He also told me that you quit.”</p><p>“He tell you why?”</p><p>Noah shakes his head.</p><p>“I quit because Aglionby is a shitty homophobic hellhole.”</p><p>Noah looks up in surprise, almost uncertain that he’s heard right, and blinks in incomprehension, trying to wrap his mind around Ronan’s words. It takes him so long that by the time he does, the anger on Ronan’s face has faded away into slight amusement and Noah knows that his own face is turning completely red. A fly could’ve flown into his mouth and taken a nap in the time that he’s been frozen like a moron.</p><p>He closes his mouth and clears his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>Ronan lets out a dry sound that’s like a laugh but not a laugh at all. “They were going to fire me anyways. I knew it the moment I entered that office and they informed me about some student who told them I was gay. Made their jobs easier when I didn’t deny anything and quit before they could fire me. You should’ve seen the looks on those bastards’ faces, Noah, as they were imagining all the horrific ways that I’d ‘corrupt the students.’ As if. Raven boys have the same appeal as a pile of crap. I don’t know how teaching them would change my opinion.”</p><p>Noah tries to process all of this information, but it takes him a while to. It’s as if they’re in a race and Ronan is far ahead of him and he’s having trouble running fast enough to catch up. He wants to call for a time out, think about this for an entire day, and then resume this conversation with Ronan, but Ronan has stopped talking and is looking at him. Noah hears himself saying something inadequate. Maybe a “that sucks” or “what assholes,” but it’s his mouth running on autopilot and he’s still trying to comprehend what he’s just heard.</p><p>It’s awful that that happened. There should be laws that make it possible for Ronan not to have gone through that. Along with anyone else in a similar situation. It’s discrimination. Noah feels even worse when he realizes that that’s not what he’s so hung about. Ronan had to deal with something he never should have had to deal with, but here Noah is, too busy being stuck on the fact that Ronan Lynch is gay. <em> Gay</em>. Gay, gay, gay, gay. That he is interested in guys. That he’s only interested in guys. <em> Ronan Lynch</em>.</p><p>Noah’s mind feels like it’s simultaneously collapsing and spinning, which is probably why he’s not thinking properly when he says what he does next.</p><p>“If it’s any help, I probably would have been in the same boat,” he says, “not for the same reason but for a similar one.”</p><p>It takes less than a second after those words leave his mouth for Noah to realize that he sounds like an insensitive jerk. Why the hell did he say that? How does that help Ronan at all to know? And is it possible to rewind time? He would like to rewind time and redo the past thirty seconds.</p><p>Frantically, Noah tries to think up something that’ll actually be helpful and relevant.</p><p>His mind goes blank when Ronan lets out something like a laugh.</p><p>Noah’s eyes widen when he realizes it <em> was </em> a laugh. He sneaks a glance at Ronan and sees that it really, really looks like Ronan is trying hard not to burst out laughing. His lips are too tightly pressed together and his eyes too concentrated from the effort.</p><p>Another laugh escapes and Noah thinks that maybe things aren’t going so badly after all. Whatever horrific ordeal he has to go through is worth it if it led to this result. Ronan’s laughter is one of the most wonderful things that he’s ever heard.</p><p>It eventually occurs to him that he’s the clown that Ronan is laughing at, but the thought doesn’t bother him at all. If Ronan’s barely-there smile from Saturday night had been enough to make him stare, then the sight of the way Ronan’s face softens whenever he laughs makes Noah want to do a drawing of it, so that he can have an excuse to stare as long as he wants. He never thought he would see this: the intensely grim Ronan he’s familiar with easing into something so light. He’s starstruck.</p><p>Unfortunately, Ronan gets over his urge to laugh way too soon, but then he smirks at Noah.</p><p>Noah is also not ready for that smirk.</p><p>“Figures,” Ronan says.</p><p>It takes Noah a moment to recall what Ronan is replying to. His face flushes once he does.</p><p>“You’re not exactly subtle, Czerny.”</p><p>Noah’s face flushes even redder. It appalls him to realize that there’s so many moments that Ronan could be talking about where he’s been so obvious, but then again, it’s not as if he actively tries to hide the fact that he’s attracted to guys.</p><p>“Not the same but similar…” Ronan looks like he’s thinking things over, his face contemplative to the point of being a parody, as if he’s having fun with this. Noah can’t believe how open his expressions are becoming. It’s happening too fast.</p><p>“I’m bi.” Noah blurts the words out without thinking, but for once, he doesn’t regret doing that. It doesn’t throw him out of the loop like usual; instead, he feels like he’s gotten a better grasp of the situation by saying that out loud.</p><p>Ronan nods, looking unfazed by his admission. “I know what you meant.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ooooooh, this chapter came with some (not so) new information ;D<br/>(also: this isn't going to be relevant to the story at all - only a behind-the-scenes detail fyi, but kavinsky was the student that outed ronan to the school.)</p><p>not sure i like this chapter title so i might change it and it's been a while since i looked at this chapter, so let me know if you caught any spelling/grammar/whatever-else mistakes. otherwise, i'll proofread this later. also, looks like this four week uploading schedule is here to stay ^^;;</p><p>thanks for reading (as always)!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Preliminary Sketches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope that you all had a happy thanksgiving (if you celebrate it that is)! enjoy this new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> They were on a roof, having a conversation that made them grin and watching the way the moon hung in the sky </em> — <em> even though it was evening and the sun hadn’t yet set, but there was a small, pale moon amongst the blue nonetheless. Noah was charmed by the sight, but he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Ronan, who had moved from sitting near the edge of the roof to sitting beside him. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> There was still a distance between them, but the couple of inches was nothing compared to before. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Noah said something that made Ronan laugh. He imagined the sound of Ronan’s laughter as a warm blanket, falling onto the hills and forests before them, falling around his shoulders. He didn’t think, only acted, placed his hand over the hand Ronan had resting in the space beside his thigh, and the world seemed to still for the entirety that Noah was inhaling a long breath and exhaling that long breath out. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Ronan had stopped laughing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> And then he turned his hand over, so that their palms were pressing together, and intertwined his fingers with Noah’s. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Noah smiled and smiled and smiled. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes Noah forgets how quiet Henrietta can be. He got used to the constant noise of New York City, of how there was never a complete moment of silence in the city that never slept. The sound of other people and cars on the road had its lulls, but never for that long. This stillness that has surrounded him for the past ten minutes would never have happened and it’s moments like now that cause him to fully realize the contrast. Part of him prefers this more: the quiet that occupies the air this far out into the countryside.</p>
<p>He’s not sure if it’s because Henrietta is his homebase or if it’s because he hasn’t gotten to experience a moment of peace and quiet like this in so long.</p>
<p>Noah stands at a distance from Catherine’s house, out near the far edge of the front yard where the forest envelopes the lawn. The grass grows freely, as tall as his knees and moving in the wind, and his back almost presses up against the trees, most of which have begun to lose their leaves. It’s a bit of a shame that it’s no longer summer, but Noah plans to work green leaves and flourishing flowers into the painting, which he has already drawn into the preliminary sketch that he came to do on Tuesday.</p>
<p>Catherine has been as hospitable as ever, offering him drinks or snacks when he arrived, delighting in the bouquet he got for her, and taking in the sight of the sketch with a lot of admiring words. Noah half-thinks that she doesn’t realize how much of a haven her home is. </p>
<p>The place wouldn’t really be considered a farm aside from the horses, the fenced area that they graze at separated from the house by a road and an area where her family parks their cars, which is only occupied by his red Mustang at the moment. There’s a stable for the horses further in the distance, appearing small in comparison to the ranch house, but both are small in comparison to the forest that grows around them, giving the appearance of a little paradise cradled within the protective hands of the trees. That’s what captivates Noah most about the place. It resembles the places in the artwork of those puzzles that his mom likes to do.</p>
<p>Noah loses track of the time, unsure of how long it’s been since he got here and Catherine left him to it with a reminder that he could come get her if he needed anything. It’s probably been at least an hour now. He’s making good progress on his painting, the gouache mixed on the palette that he holds, the canvas propped up on a stand in front of him. He likes to work from general to specific, painting over areas that share the same color all in one go, and then returning to flesh out the smaller details. Soon the blotches of colors on the canvas begin to resemble the sight he sees in front of him, becomes trees and horses and windows.</p>
<p>He’s brought a catalogue of flowers with him to reference from, painting the ones that Catherine has pointed out either in preference or actually have had in her garden, and arranges the flowers into an imaginary garden that he paints along the front and the sides of the house. There are lilacs and daisies and snapdragons. Painting all the flowers and trees with heads of green leaves makes Noah wish again that it was springtime or summertime. Maybe he’ll stick around to see that. He’s still not sure how long he plans to stay in Henrietta.</p>
<p>The focus of his attention is on painting the shingles on the roof of the house when he hears a car drive down the dirt road that leads to the house. A blue truck—Noah recognizes it from the first time he noticed this place—parks next to his Mustang, the door opening and a middle-aged man stepping out. He doesn’t appear to notice Noah, distracted by the horses that crowd up to him when he walks up to the fence, and Noah sets down his painting supplies to walk over and introduce himself. He’s probably Catherine’s son, David. The one who Ronan helped out of a snowbank.</p>
<p>At the thought of Ronan, Noah’s face heats up. The dream from last night resurfaces in his head. Find out a guy is gay and dream about holding hands with him. Noah doesn’t think he can get more pathetic than that. Especially given how euphoric he’d felt when he woke up.</p>
<p>Maybe he just needs to get laid.</p>
<p>And this isn’t something he should be thinking about right now. David catches sight of him. Noah holds up a hand in greeting and quickly tries to look normal, pushing out any thoughts in his mind that he would rather dwell on later. Or not have to think about again.</p>
<p>“Hey.” David holds out a hand and Noah returns the handshake. “I take it you’re the painter?”</p>
<p>“Yup! The name’s Noah.”</p>
<p>“David.”</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you. I wanted to thank you and your family for letting me do a portrait of the house,” Noah says. “Your mother especially. She’s been a big help.”</p>
<p>David nods. “That sounds like her alright. Sorry that I couldn’t be here the last time you came. My construction job has strange hours, so I can’t ever tell how things are going to work out.”</p>
<p>“No worries.”</p>
<p>“I hear you’re a friend of Ronan’s?”</p>
<p>Noah knows he told Catherine that they were friends—and he does want to be friends with Ronan—but now it feels slightly off. He pushes that away as something else he’ll think about at a later time. Or not. For now, he goes with it. “Yeah. We knew each other from high school.” It’s not exactly a complete lie.</p>
<p>Something lights up in David’s face. “Ah, I knew this Mustang looked familiar!”</p>
<p>It takes a moment for the words to fully sink in. When they do, Noah realizes that David isn’t talking about one of the horses but is talking about his car. His eyebrows furrow in puzzlement. “My Mustang?”</p>
<p>David notices his confusion. “I used to see it drive past a lot,” he says as if in clarification. Except that all it does is confuse Noah even more. “But it’s been a while. Did you leave Henrietta?”</p>
<p>Noah nods, slowly. “I went off to college.”</p>
<p>“I see. Ronan’s a good one, but I don’t often catch a lot of people driving his way. When I didn’t see your Mustang pass by anymore, I couldn’t help but wonder…” David trails off, shakes his head, and claps a hand on Noah’s shoulder with a smile. “Well, it’s good to know that he has friends who have been with him for a while. That fellow’s been through too much. He could use the camaraderie and support.”</p>
<p>Noah is still trying to wrap his head around all of this. “Sorry. Just want to clarify, but are you sure it was a red Mustang?”</p>
<p>David glances at his car and nods. “Can’t forget a fancy one like yours.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Evening is approaching by the time Noah leaves. He’s surprised that he stays for that long. It’s hard to concentrate on his painting after his conversation with David, but he manages to make some progress. David’s kids get home from school and his wife gets home from work, and they distract him with their excitement over his painting, but once they’re all gone, Noah is left standing there with long shadows and the sound of a bird that he doesn’t recognize, echoing from within the forest. He was planning to get the painting finished today, but it’s probably about time that he calls it quits for now.</p>
<p>He’s packing his things into his car when Catherine comes out to invite him to eat before he goes, but he shakes his head, making up a lie about how his mom expects him home.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I meant to finish the painting today, but I didn’t get around to it. Could I possibly come back tomorrow to finish it up?”</p>
<p>“Of course!” Catherine gives him a smile that almost seems to say “did you even have to ask me that?”</p>
<p>Noah thanks her and waves her farewell, getting into his car, putting on his seatbelt, and starting up the engine. It’s slightly odd: to be inside something that’s been on his mind for the past few hours. It’s a first to feel out-of-place in his car.</p>
<p>He’s tried convincing himself that it was probably another red Mustang that David saw driving to the Barns however many years ago, but it’s hard to believe that when Noah’s ninety-nine percent sure that he’s the only one who drives a car like this in Henrietta. The chances are more likely that David saw him drive to Ronan’s that one time for that science project and mistakenly thought it happened multiple times. Or that his car is somehow capable of driving on its own and befriended Ronan like some sentient robot from outer space.</p>
<p>Yeah, that’s definitely more possible. Noah knows he was not driving over to Ronan’s that much at any point of time.</p>
<p>At the main road, Noah almost considers turning right and driving towards the Barns, but that’s only a passing thought. He goes left. With the hand-holding dream and thoughts over the Mustang, he’ll likely make a complete embarrassment of himself if he talks to Ronan now. Not that that’s anything new, memories from yesterday at the frog pit coming back to him and causing him to cringe. Luckily, Ronan didn’t stay long after their mutual coming out moment, but Noah knows he did enough damage before then, cementing what’s probably his image as a fool in Ronan’s head. A fool who looks too eager to get his hands down Ronan’s pants.</p>
<p>Not that that’s his goal. Sure, Ronan is attractive and he wouldn’t say no if Ronan offered, but that’s <em> not </em>his goal. Noah remembers how often he’d seen Ronan by himself back when they were students at Aglionby. It’d bothered him, but he’d been too intimidated to do anything. He doesn’t want a repeat of that. It’ll be enough if he can give Ronan Lynch friendship.</p>
<p>Noah groans at himself, resisting the urge to smack his forehead against the wheel. That’s even cheesier than his stupid dream. And this is probably worse because he’s conscious while thinking about it.</p>
<p>He does need to get laid. Or get a drink. Or both.</p>
<p>That’s how Noah finds himself parking in front of the first bar that he comes across. A sign that reads “Green Field” shines back at him from above the entrance. He’s not too sure how good this place is. The parking lot is mostly full, but that’s probably because it’s a Friday night. He gets out anyways; better a place that’s full than a place that isn’t. He would’ve gone to the liquor store if he wanted to drink by himself, which does not sound appealing in the slightest at the moment.</p>
<p>It’s not as loud as he’d thought it’d be inside. There’s a ceaseless white noise of chatter, but it’s not overwhelming and there’s space at the bar for him to sit at. It doesn’t take long for the bartender to get to him and Noah asks for a screwdriver cocktail, part of him relieved that he’s no longer in New York City. Some of the guys he’d go drinking with had teased him for getting a screwdriver, calling him girly for it, a sentiment that Noah will never understand. A drink is a drink. He’s not a big fan of vodka, but the orange juice makes it tolerable and he’s grown to like it.</p>
<p>Noah wonders what Ronan likes to drink.</p>
<p>As soon as the thought enters his head, he shakes it out, focusing instead on finding someone he can talk to. He passes over the guys. After all, part of Noah wouldn’t mind if the night ended with him in someone’s bed. It’s too risky to take a chance with a random dude—especially given how a day ago, for all he knew he was the only guy who was attracted to other guys in Henrietta until Ronan… He shakes his head again. He needs to take his mind off of Ronan.</p>
<p>He spots a woman sitting on the other side of the bar. She looks older than him, but not by a lot, and she’s by herself, so once he’s got his screwdriver in hand, Noah heads on over.</p>
<p>He taps the counter to get her attention. “Feel free to tell me to get lost if you want, but I figured it was worth a shot to ask if I could sit next to you.”</p>
<p>She takes him in. The way her mouth turns upwards tips him off on what her answer will be before she nods.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the title for this chapter is kinda weird and not as casual as the others, but i think it fits so i'll keep it for now. also, this is the chapter where i meant to say in the ending notes that writing noah in this fic causes me to be aware of just how much of an extrovert he is which is so foreign to my introverted ass lol (i've last since changed what i said in the previous note to something else) we also got to see painter!noah in action 🎨</p>
<p>see you all again in four weeks! (it's going to be christmas by then, so here's an early happy holidays :D)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's fitting that this chapter is being released shortly after christmas ;P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They go to a motel afterwards. The destination is an unspoken compromise from the woman, Mila, after Noah told her that he didn’t have a place of his own that he was staying at. He’s not sure if she’s a local or just visiting, but even if she does have her own place, Noah doesn’t blame her for not wanting to invite him over. He hasn’t done a lot of hook-ups, but the few times that he has, it has been a little sketchy inviting a person over to where he lives—even if he was having a nice time with the person beforehand and nothing bad ever happened.</p><p>They’re both a little tipsy, but that makes the laughter come easier. Mila is blunt with her words and her actions, immediately getting on the bed and pulling off her pants with a teasing grin. Noah follows, cracking a joke that’s probably terrible, but it makes Mila laugh and Noah wonders why he can’t be this smooth around Ronan…who he probably shouldn’t be thinking about right now.</p><p>Noah takes off his shirt and Mila does the same shortly afterwards. It doesn’t click in his head that something’s up, his eyes traveling over the expanse of a stomach and chest, until Mila’s shirt goes over her head and it’s no longer her, but Ronan, blue-eyed and shaved head and broad shoulders.</p><p>Noah stares. His gaze travels back down to a flat chest that’s definitely not what was under Mila’s form-fitting shirt. Mila also didn’t have five knotted leather bands going up her wrist, which Noah can’t stop looking at. He has forgotten about those bands, his fingers itching to undo them, but instead, he looks back up at Ronan and is caught off guard by the vulnerability that he sees: a mix of trust and desire, which Noah doesn’t feel worthy of having directed at him.</p><p>Part of him is questioning how much he drank, but he feels absolutely sober. Noah couldn’t be more grounded in this moment, caught in the way Ronan shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. It’s unusual to see Ronan Lynch not looking sure of himself and Noah doesn’t like it. He wants to erase it from Ronan’s expression and the stiffness of his muscles. For some reason, he knows he’s capable of making that happen, but he hesitates, his confusion too strong and clouding over anything else.</p><p>Surprisingly, it doesn’t take him long to realize that he’s not confused by how any of this is happening, but he <em> is </em>confused on what to do from here.</p><p>“Noah?”</p><p>Noah doesn’t know where to look, but avoiding eye contact with Ronan is making things more awkward, so he looks up. He’s taken aback by the intensity of Ronan’s eyes—especially when he realizes that the intensity stems from concern. Ronan is worried about him, the trust turning into doubt and his lack of self-confidence becoming more evident. Noah really doesn’t like that, his already aimless hands becoming even more aimless as he struggles to figure out what to do to fix it.</p><p>He settles on hooking his pointer fingers around the belt loops on Ronan’s pants. His voice comes out too high with nerves. “Can… Can I?”</p><p>Thankfully, Ronan doesn’t need further elaboration. He nods, lifting himself slightly from the bed so that Noah has an easier time pulling down the pants, and once they’re off, Noah holds them in his hands, unable to completely grasp the fact that this is happening. That he’s just taken off Ronan’s pants. It distracts him, leaving him unprepared for the sight of Ronan in his underwear, the thin fabric leaving almost nothing to the imagination.</p><p>Noah’s mouth goes dry. “Ronan… Are you sure?”</p><p>He watches Ronan sit up from the bed, moving so that he can take one of Noah’s hands in his, and Noah swallows on nothing but air. Ronan kisses him, simple and short, but it leaves Noah breathless. He can only think about the way Ronan’s lips felt against his, so he doesn’t realize until the last second that Ronan has tugged down his underwear.</p><p>A small gasp jumps out from his mouth when Ronan takes the hand of his that Ronan holds and wraps it around his cock.</p><p>“Noah,” Ronan says, “I’ve dreamed about this.”</p><p>Noah nods because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s processing the words, but it’s hard to focus with the feeling of Ronan against his palm and wrapped against his fingers from both sides. Ronan is a constant sensory overload. Noah is surprised he manages to catch up most of the time. He’s not sure how he’s going to be able to catch up now, but somehow he does.</p><p>“Show me what you dream about.”</p><p>He lets Ronan guide him. Ronan moves his hand up and down his dick, which is thicker than Noah’s and a good length—especially as it begins to harden from the handjob. Noah feels his own dick get hard. A thick layer of arousal settles in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Ronan’s hand moving his, but after a while, Ronan’s hand moves off of his and Noah is doing it by himself. Noah rubs his thumb along the head, smearing precum against his skin, which lessens the friction as he thrusts his hand up and down Ronan.</p><p>He’s so caught on this motion that it takes a moment for him to hear that Ronan is breathing fast and heavy.</p><p>Noah can’t help himself. He lets go of Ronan so that he can press Ronan down onto the bed and press a kiss to his opened mouth. He licks inside, running his tongue along Ronan’s tongue and teeth and the roof of his mouth. He’s half-aware of himself grinding against Ronan’s hip when he moves to kiss Ronan’s neck, sucking so that he can leave behind a hickey.</p><p>Ronan moans. “Fuck, Noah. This is better than my dreams.”</p><p>Noah smiles, kisses down Ronan’s chest and belly, and readjusts his position so that he can kneel between Ronan’s legs and take Ronan into his mouth. He’s worried for a second—he’s given blowjobs before and yet this one feels like the first—but it’s a very quick second, because Ronan comes soon afterwards, taking Noah by surprise. Some of the cum ends up in his mouth, but most of it falls onto Ronan’s stomach or the bed.</p><p>Noah runs his hand across Ronan’s skin, rubs the slickness of the cum around, and is about to give Ronan another kiss when he hears the sound of someone talking. Ronan props himself up on his elbows and cranes his head to look around him.</p><p>Noah glances over his shoulder and sees a woman sitting at the end of the bed, her back turned to him. Noah thinks he recognizes her. He looks back at Ronan, a question forming on his tongue, but it immediately fades out of existence when he sees that Ronan is no longer there, leaving him more confused than he was over the woman’s presence. There’s devastation, too, wrapping around Noah in a tight squeeze. He feels as if he’s lost something important, leaving him disoriented for so long that when he pulls himself out his thoughts, he’s lying on the bed with a pillow underneath his head and blankets over him.</p><p>The woman stands at the side of the bed, looking down at him in concern and confusion. “Are you alright?”</p><p><em> Mila. </em> The name comes back to him along with memories of how he got to this motel room, but all Noah can think about is Ronan not being here. Was never here.</p><p>“You were crying out,” Mila says, her voice shaking him back to reality.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“Well, you fell asleep on me is what happened.” Mila raises an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t be trying to pick up girls if you’re too tired to go through with the whole thing. It’s a waste of time for the both of us.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Noah sits up, still unable to think straight, but he is sorry.</p><p>Mila shrugs. “As long as you’re alright. I was really worried for a moment there. Besides, I’m not the one who paid for this room, so maybe you can make the most of your money by spending the night here.”</p><p>Noah nods. He knows better than to ask if she still wants to get something out of this hook-up. It’s becoming obvious that she’s no longer interested and only stayed around to make sure he didn’t need an ambulance. He realizes that she’s already got her clothes on, and once she’s convinced that there’s nothing wrong with him, she heads off, leaving him with a room that’s suddenly too quiet and empty. Noah almost wishes she had stayed.</p><p>He hasn’t felt this lonely since freshman year of college.</p><p>The reasons feel the same even though they aren’t similar at all.</p><p>Noah moves one of his hands to lay it on his stomach, but brushes something along the way, causing him to come to a halt. His hand hangs in midair underneath the blanket and he stares up at the ceiling, eyes wide and mind spinning.</p><p>After a moment, he slowly moves his other hand to brush it against the spot on his skin that touched something. It felt like water, but it has more substance than water. Noah sits up on the bed, throwing the blanket off of him so that he can get a glimpse of what’s underneath.</p><p>It doesn’t take him too long to figure out the cause of the cum on the sheets. He grimaces. The front of his boxers is stained. The sight fills Noah with an ickiness that clings at him and makes him wish that he could step out of his body, so that he can put some distance between himself and how gross he is, but since that’s not possible, he goes to clean himself off in the bathroom.</p><p>He hears his phone vibrate from the pocket of his pants when he gets back. Noah fishes out his phone, expecting a text from his mom or Adele about where he is, but the number is one he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t remember giving Mila his phone number, and if he did then the message doesn’t make that much sense coming from her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Was it your mustang that I saw at my neighbor's place today? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Another text quickly follows afterwards.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Signed, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ronan Lynch </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Noah’s stomach has never sunk down faster to his feet.</p><p>His phone falls from his hands back down to the ground where his pants are lying. The urge to throw up arises from where his stomach used to be. He wraps his arms around his waist, staring down at his phone as images flash through his head. Ronan’s leather bands. Ronan staring at him in concern. Ronan’s cock inside of his hand. Ronan’s mouth opened in a long moan. Ronan’s legs parted for him.</p><p>Noah feels as if he’s violated Ronan.</p><p>He wraps himself underneath the covers, curling around his knees and listening far too closely if his phone vibrates again. A small part of himself realizes how stupid this is. It was a wet dream. He didn’t actually do anything, but it’s hard to believe that when the dream had felt so vivid. It might as well have been real. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. And waking up didn’t feel like waking up.</p><p>Not to mention he’s pathetic for hooking up to forget about Ronan only to end up forgetting everything else but Ronan.</p><p>He’s beyond hopeless.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this chapter is the reason why i bumped up the rating. to be fair, i'm writing this fic kind of blind as to what specifically is going to happen (i only have a very general outline), but i hadn't planned for there to be smut and the smut showed up at the door and i'm rolling with it. i don't think anyone is going to complain (there needs to be more roah smut in this world anyways).</p><p>tune in next next next next week to find out what happens next!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Texts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i forgot to do this last time</p><p>*pats myself on the back for being responsible for the longest roah-centric fic thus far*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s cloudy the next day, but it doesn’t rain and there’s a low chance of it according to the forecast, so instead of calling things off for another day, Noah lets Catherine know that he’ll be coming over to finish up his painting. After a long night of little sleep in the motel room, he’s more than happy to get out and go somewhere to occupy his time with other things that don’t include being ridden with guilt.</p><p>He thinks about driving straight over to the house, but decides to head home instead, so that he doesn’t show up in the same clothes from yesterday. And he’s badly in need of new boxers.</p><p>Luckily, no one is home. Noah doesn’t want to deal with any questions at the moment. It’s obvious that he’s had a rough night, which he still feels in his bones and sees in his face. He takes a shower that makes him feel a little better and a new change of clothes helps out, too. There’s some leftovers in the fridge, which he puts onto a plate and heats up in the microwave. The pot roast is delicious as always. The beef is chewy, the vegetables are soft, and the broth reminds him of being sick when he was a kid. His mom has always known how to make it right.</p><p>By the time he’s on his way to Catherine’s house, his mood has significantly improved.</p><p>Except that all goes out the window when he makes the turn towards the makeshift driveway and sees Ronan hauling hay with David to the horse pasture.</p><p>Noah’s first instinct is to reverse out of sight, but Ronan has seen him and David is waving at him.</p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p>Ronan walks up to where he parks the Mustang. Noah can see him approaching in the side view mirror and he stays inside the car, dreading it, but he knows it’s going to look strange if he doesn’t get out. There’s nothing for him to busy himself with, so Noah forces himself to open the door and step outside. He wishes that he had decided against coming today. The weather gives him plenty of reasonable explanations not to, the chilly air would affect the paint or make his hands go numb if he stays outside too long. Catherine would’ve understood.</p><p>“Looks like I was right,” Ronan says and Noah has to keep himself from reacting to the sound of his voice—especially when he hears the echo of a moan in it. “It <em> was </em>your car that I saw yesterday.”</p><p>There’s probably an unspoken question in there about why Noah didn’t respond to his text, which Noah feels bad about, but if he’d replied, he would’ve ended up writing an entire message about how he’s a creep who has perverted hyper-realistic dreams and Ronan should stay clear of him. Thankfully, Ronan doesn’t ask, because Noah can see himself still telling Ronan that and it’ll be more mortifying saying it in person.</p><p>He can’t even make eye contact with Ronan, so he looks somewhere else and ends up realizing that there’s no safe area on Ronan’s body to look at. No matter where he lays his eyes, Noah’s mind is ready to snap a moment from his dream as an unnecessary reminder.</p><p>Ronan’s leather bands join the line of unnecessary reminders. Stupidly, Noah looks at Ronan’s wrist to see if they’re there, only to see that his wrists are covered by the jacket Ronan is wearing, because of course he’d be wearing a jacket in this weather.</p><p>Noah settles on looking down at his own hands, but a moving image of his hand wrapped around Ronan’s cock flashes over them. He sucks in a breath and focuses intently on his car.</p><p>He’s not ready for this.</p><p>If Ronan catches any of it, he doesn’t make a comment. “David told me that you’re doing a painting of their house.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noah says, his voice a bit too quiet and tight. A second later, he tries again. “It’s a work in progress.”</p><p>“Can I see?”</p><p>Relief hits Noah in the form of something to do. He nods a bit too eagerly, walking towards the trunk of his car where he’s got the canvas stored in a carrier that Adele got for his birthday a few years ago. It doesn’t even occur to him to be shy about showing Ronan the painting until the last second. He thinks that he’s a decent painter; Catherine and her family have expressed that they like the painting, but that’s easy. Ronan’s different. His opinion will feel more personal.</p><p>Nervously, he takes the canvas out from the carrier and waits as Ronan takes it in. He almost wants to blurt out a question on what Ronan thinks. He’s already not looking up at Ronan and this only adds another reason that makes it harder to, so he can only guess what expression Ronan must be making, the not knowing making Noah even more tense.</p><p>After too long has passed, Noah reaches a point where he can’t stand it any longer. His eyes flicker over to Ronan’s face, surprise jolting through him when he sees that Ronan’s already looking over at him, eyebrow raised in what looks like amusement.</p><p>“Do you usually get this jumpy when you’re showing someone your artwork?”</p><p>Noah quickly looks away. The answer would be “not really,” but he doesn’t want Ronan to know that.</p><p>Before he can even open his mouth to say anything, Ronan takes a step back and gives him a light smack behind the shoulder. “It’s really good.”</p><p>Noah feels a rush of exhilaration. It’s tinged with a bit of guilt from the physical contact, but he tries to ignore that. “Thanks.”</p><p>Luckily, David joins them after this, easing away some of Noah’s tension now that he doesn’t have to interact with Ronan by himself. He still can’t look at Ronan properly, but at least now it won’t be too obvious. Three’s a crowd he’s grateful for at the moment. David compliments his painting again and Noah tries not to smile too much when Ronan echoes in agreement.</p><p>The two of them help Noah carry his stuff out to where he usually sets up to paint, at a distance from the house by the edge of the lawn, and Catherine comes out to give him an umbrella in case it rains. A light happiness flits about in Noah’s chest at all the assistance. It’s nice to be at the center of attention for all this caring. He can’t deny that a large part of that is because Ronan is there, who he manages to make eye contact with before Ronan makes his leave to go back to helping David with the hay and who—throughout the next ten or so minutes—Noah can’t help but continue sneaking glances at.</p><p>He has always thought that Ronan was good-looking. Like a young Clark Kent with the farm and without the superpowers (although for all Noah knows Ronan may as well have that, too). Except that Ronan is less straightlaced and rougher around the edges. Noah remembers how punky he’d looked with his shaved head back then, but while that would’ve looked silly on anyone else, it had been flattering on Ronan. If anything, it had made his handsomeness even more noticeable.</p><p>Part of Noah has always suspected that that’s what made the other Aglionby boys all the more eager to treat Ronan the way they did with their distancing and gossiping and snickering. Not that insecurity is solely to blame, but he doesn’t doubt that it made things easier when the boy they were targeting looked like the bad boy that their girlfriends would’ve left them for. Ronan stood out for his looks and then he stood out for being the outsider with the broken family, the accumulating number of fistfights, the dark presence always alone.</p><p>Regret still clings to Noah that he allowed himself to be intimidated by all of that and never reached out a hand. All of a sudden, it clicks in his head why Ronan wasn’t happy to see him at Dolce and showing up on his porch that first day. It makes sense why Ronan would dislike him. Not because he ever did anything, but because he didn’t. Noah may not have done anything like the other Aglionby boys, but in spite of and because of it, he was like the rest of them.</p><p>Ronan glances his way, causing Noah to quickly lower his eyes back down to his painting.</p><p>He clenches his teeth. He’s still a coward.</p><p>His phone vibrates in his jacket pocket, startling Noah out of his thoughts, and he sets down his paintbrush to fetch it out. He expects it to be his mom or one of his sisters, but is surprised to see it’s from Ronan.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re always weird, but you’re being weirder than usual, czerny. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Noah looks back up at Ronan, sees him standing by his car talking to David about something, and almost wonders if Ronan actually texted him just now. He watches Ronan wave to David before he gets in his car.</p><p>Noah lets out a breath, putting his palette away and his phone back into his pocket. He keeps his hand in there, stuffs his other hand into his other pocket, and walks across the lawn so that he’s standing by the dirt road when Ronan drives up.</p><p>Ronan puts his car into parking mode and rolls down his window.</p><p>“Look, Czerny—”</p><p>“Ronan, I—”</p><p>They both stop.</p><p>Noah almost takes his hands out of his pockets to gesture at Ronan to go first, but then he realizes that they’re shaking slightly from nerves. His throat feels too tight, putting him off from saying anything, and so he settles on giving Ronan a nod to speak, hoping that he looks calmer than he feels. His thoughts are a chaotic buzz of white noise.</p><p>The way Ronan is looking at him is too sharp. It looks like he’s trying to find something in Noah’s expression; his own expression is unreadable in its focus. Finally, he says, “I didn’t tell you I was gay because I wanted to start something.”</p><p>Noah almost does a visible double-take, unsure if he’s heard right, and ends up sputtering like an idiot. “I… That’s… I didn’t—I don’t think…” He stops, cheeks no doubt red from embarrassment, and tries to regain some resemblance of composure. “I know.”</p><p>To his surprise, Ronan looks slightly uncomfortable and because his brain has the worst timing in the world, it gives Noah another unnecessary reminder of the Ronan from his dream. The similar uncertain expression that Noah had wanted to erase there he wants to erase now, but he’s not sure what to say. He’s too busy trying not to recall what he did in his dream to make that happen.</p><p>Ronan is the one to break the silence. “Okay. I wanted to make sure. You keep looking uncomfortable and I don’t want you to think that I was texting you as a way to lead up to some hook-up. And even if I was trying for something, I’d be straightforward about it, Noah, but that’s not my motive. You don’t have to feel any pressure. I’m not aiming to get my hands down your pants just because I know you like guys. That’s not something I do. Alright?”</p><p>Noah feels his face heat up even more. God, this is mortifying. “Alright.”</p><p>Ronan nods. “Did you have something to say?”</p><p>Noah becomes all the more aware that he didn’t have anything planned to say, running only on autopilot as he walked and opened his mouth as if he does. There’s no way he can actually explain what happened and—although he knows he shouldn’t—part of him feels embarrassed and a bit ashamed to tell Ronan the truth: that he had a hook-up that was wrong in too many ways—especially when he’s getting the impression that Ronan isn’t big on hook-ups—so he decides to go with half of the story instead.</p><p>“I wanted to say sorry for not texting you back last night,” he says. “I know I should’ve spared the thirty seconds that it would have taken to reply, but it was sort of a rough night and I was busy with some things.”</p><p>Ronan almost looks embarrassed hearing this and Noah wonders if it’s because Ronan can guess what he meant, but after a while, Ronan says, “Guess I should’ve let you speak first before jumping to conclusions.”</p><p>Noah shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I should’ve been more upfront.”</p><p>“I was assuming things.”</p><p>Noah gets the feeling that they can go back-and-forth with this blame game for a while, so he thinks up something to cut it short. “At least things have been cleared up.”</p><p>Ronan shifts in his seat, his hands adjusting and readjusting on the steering wheel, and nods. “No more misunderstandings?”</p><p>“No more misunderstandings.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The rest of the day is uneventful. Noah finishes the painting, has lunch with Catherine and the rest of her family (as thanks for the painting), and then he mucks about for the rest of the day before he goes home, helping his mom with dinner and trying not to preen too much at the compliments that she gives him on how his cooking skills has improved. Living in New York did teach him a lot. Dinner with his family passes by easily.</p><p>It’s only when Noah is lying in bed at the end of the day, warm from the shower and his belly full and with nothing to do, that he thinks about Ronan.</p><p>The first thing he feels is guilt. For the past, for the dreams, for not returning his text messages. He reaches for his phone, turns it on, and properly adds Ronan to his list of contacts, so that he’s no longer just a number. After that, Noah stares at the text messages that Ronan’s sent him, biting his lip, reading them over and over again, and then he’s sending Ronan a photo of the painting almost without meaning to. He follows it up with a text that he finished it.</p><p>A minute passes without a response. Five minutes pass. And then it’s been ten minutes of waiting, fooling around on his phone, continuously expecting for a text to pop up, and Noah puts his phone down on his stomach. He looks up at the ceiling and tells himself that Ronan is busy with something. Or maybe he goes to bed early, but Ronan doesn’t strike Noah as the type to fall asleep earlier than eleven o’clock or even midnight.</p><p>Then again, life on a farm must be slow. And it’s only Ronan and his raven out there. Noah can imagine himself developing different sleeping habits if he were in Ronan’s shoes. </p><p>Somehow from there his mind makes the leap to Ronan’s words from today, which Noah has been trying not to think about. He’d been polite about it, but it doesn’t escape Noah’s notice that Ronan had basically told him that he wasn’t interested in Noah. It’s stupid, but it knocks Noah’s self-esteem down a few notches to know that Ronan doesn’t consider him an option even though Noah could be.</p><p>He gives himself a hard shake of the head. It’s better this way. Now that he knows this, he won’t let himself get sidetracked by any weird ideas. And it’s not as if he still can’t be friends with Ronan, which he does want to be. A lot. A voice in the back of his head is saying that this is just to make up for all that he didn’t do when he and Ronan were students and it’s right. Noah shifts in discomfort. Maybe he just wants to do these things to make himself feel better, but at least he’s clear on what the limits are.</p><p>His phone vibrates on his stomach, once, but enough to startle Noah out of his thoughts and he’s scrambling to unlock his phone.</p><p>There’s a text from Ronan.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It looks good. Did you let them keep it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Noah stares at the message. Part of him wonders if Ronan is lying in bed and waiting for a text back from him. He distracts himself from thinking about that even further by slowly typing out a response letter by letter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> yeah. catherine’s going to hang it up in one of the rooms. go visit if you want to see. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He erases that last sentence before he sends the text. It feels a bit presumptuous to think that Ronan would want to go see it as if it’s some timeless work of art in a museum.</p><p>A minute passes. And then another minute. And Noah thinks that Ronan has gotten bored of their conversation. Maybe he should’ve left in that last sentence. Or added something that would keep Ronan’s interest. He’s debating what to text next when Ronan replies.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Let me know if you want to do a painting of my place. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The offer catches Noah off guard. It takes him a second to realize that he’s grinning. He sets his phone down on his chest, stares up at the ceiling, smiles some more, and then texts Ronan a “sure thing.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Cool. Night Czerny. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> good night ronan </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i know the posting days are sundays, but i decided to post this up a day early as treat and also mainly because i'm going to go on hiatus for a bit with this fic. i have been getting slower and slower on making progress with this fic, and i like to stay ahead with chapters, so i'm going to hold off on posting until i get some progress done on that. if you see an update again in four weeks, then that means i managed to do that, but i doubt it; hence, this heads-up. i know the chapters have been shorter and sometimes not as eventful, but i swear things will pick up more after this point. thank you to everyone who has left comments or kudos or subscribed to this fic! i hope you will be willing to stick around.</p><p> </p><p>p.s. i didn't proofread this chapter yet, so there might be some mistakes. also, why is it such a chore to name chapters TT_TT i'm kinda regretting making that a thing. most of the time i don't even know what to name it so i zero in on a word that's important to the chapter.</p><p>p.p.s. yes, noah is a dc fanboy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Maze</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me a few weeks ago: "i'm going on a hiatus, but if i post up a new chapter then that means i managed to make progress on this fic, but i doubt that's going to happen." </p>
<p>me now: i need to have more trust in myself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(to be fair, if i was going to go on a longish hiatus, this would've been a good chapter to return with. not to toot my own horn or anything.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> you busy today? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Not with anything I couldn’t hold off on. Are you inviting me somewhere? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> maybe </em>🎃</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Noah reaches the pumpkin patch first. Or at least he thinks he does until he recognizes Ronan’s pickup truck at one end of the parking lot. It’s not as crowded as it will be later on in the season once Halloween nears, but for a Saturday, there’s a good number of people who have gathered for pumpkin picking, the maze, and pony rides. Noah thinks there also might be a food stand, but he’ll have to see about that.</p>
<p>He spots Ronan standing by the entrance gate as he gets out of his car. Something settles in his limbs as if they’ve fallen asleep—except it’s not a prickling sensation but a nervousness that Noah would rather do without. He and Ronan have been texting here and there throughout the past week, but this is the first time he’s seen Ronan since they crossed paths at Catherine’s place. The sight of Ronan is much different than an abstract Ronan texting him back about a cat video Noah sent him.</p>
<p>All of a sudden, Noah feels silly about inviting Ronan here, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, Ronan has caught sight of him. Noah pushes aside the nerves to give him a smile and a wave as he approaches.</p>
<p>“How’d you beat me? My place is closer to here.”</p>
<p>“I was at the supermarket when you texted me,” Ronan says.</p>
<p>“You didn’t buy anything that would melt, right?” Noah’s joking, but he feels a bit bad if he disrupted Ronan’s shopping for a pumpkin patch. He feels like Linus, complete with the foolishness and without the blanket. At this point, he might as well start going on about the Great Pumpkin so that Ronan will have a reason to go off and actually do something productive with his day.</p>
<p>Ronan shakes his head and lets out something like a snort. “Not exactly the right time of year to be buying ice cream.”</p>
<p>“The people coming to Dolce would say otherwise.”</p>
<p>“They’re torturing themselves.”</p>
<p>Noah laughs.</p>
<p>They start walking towards the entrance. Noah is about to head to the front booth to buy them tickets, but Ronan holds up two tickets that are already in his hand.</p>
<p>“You didn’t have to,” Noah says, unable to hold back his frown. “I invited you. I should pay for it.”</p>
<p>“Should’ve gotten here first then, huh?” Ronan’s words sound sharp at first, but then Noah sees that he’s raising an eyebrow and realizes that he’s messing with him.</p>
<p>Noah’s frown fades away. “Point taken, but everything else is going to be on me.”</p>
<p>The boy working at the entrance waves them inside with a “have a good time” after taking the tickets. There’s not so much a pumpkin patch as there is an area on their left where pumpkins have been set up to be bought. A few of the pumpkins have been curved into jack-o’-lanterns, but Noah assumes they’re for display rather than for sale. People mill about, picking up pumpkins to buy, and there’s a small group of kids running around with caramel apples. Noah spots a food stand in the distance, which he immediately points out to Ronan.</p>
<p>“Let’s get something to eat.”</p>
<p>If Ronan notices how enthusiastic he sounds, he doesn’t comment on it, just shrugs and follows after Noah.</p>
<p>Noah’s had lunch, but lunch isn’t the same thing as pumpkin pie with whip cream on the top, which he finds himself continuously eyeing as they wait in line.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know that pumpkin patches were opened in September,” Ronan says, focused instead on taking in the general vicinity.</p>
<p>Noah smiles. “You learn something new every day.”</p>
<p>He buys two slices of pumpkin pie along with three bags of pumpkin seeds, one for Ronan and the other two to bring home for his family. Ronan almost refuses the bag, but after some insisting on Noah’s part, he gives in and takes the bag along with the plate of pumpkin pie.</p>
<p>Noah takes a bite of the pie and can tell that it hasn’t been long since it came out of the oven. Its warmth makes him suddenly aware that there’s a chill in the air, turning his hands cold and probably reddening his cheeks with the breeze. He takes another bite and holds back an appreciative noise. “Fresh pumpkin pie is the best.”</p>
<p>Ronan nods. “This is pretty good.”</p>
<p>An idea occurs to Noah, turning in his head as they eat through the rest of their pumpkin pie. He extends the offer a little hesitantly. “If you want, I can make some pumpkin pie for you and bring it over whenever you’re craving some.”</p>
<p>Surprise flashes over Ronan’s face. “You can cook?”</p>
<p>Noah doesn’t know rather he should be amused or insulted that Ronan assumes he’d be clueless in the kitchen. “Yeah, I have some skills.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to have to see them in action,” Ronan says, still in disbelief.</p>
<p>Noah is leaning towards amusement over Ronan’s reaction. He can’t help but laugh, his mouth still full of pumpkin pie. “You could come to my house and help out.”</p>
<p>Ronan doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t decline the offer so Noah assumes it’s a tentative “yes.” They finish the rest of their pie and then he’s pulling Ronan in the direction of the corn maze. It’s a shame that it isn’t a haunted corn maze, but maybe some will pop up in other places as October nears. Noah can bring Ronan to those. He knows Violet will want to tag along, which he’ll allow if she still isn’t stuck on the idea that he’s got a thing for Ronan. They haven’t talked about that since she found Ronan’s driver’s license in the car, but as long as she promises not to blurt out anything unnecessary, he’ll let her come, which leads Noah to thinking about how Ronan and Violet will get along, his head caught up in all the possible things that can happen.</p>
<p>He almost doesn’t catch the voice calling out towards them. “Mr. Lynch!”</p>
<p>Noah looks over in the direction of the voice. A teenage boy is walking up to them, tousled brown hair and wearing khaki shorts despite the chilly weather, his face pulled back into an easy open smile as he waves.</p>
<p>There’s no doubt in Noah’s mind that he was one of Ronan’s students from Aglionby, further solidifying the fact that Ronan was a teacher. Noah has tried to imagine it, but it’s been hard to think up what it must be like to have Ronan Lynch as a teacher. Maybe this interaction with a student will give him some idea, but Ronan mutters a “be right back” to Noah and leaves him standing by the entrance of the maze. All he can do is watch as Ronan talks to the boy, his back to Noah so he can’t see Ronan’s expressions, but the boy looks enthusiastic to be talking to him, his hand gestures big and constantly in motion.</p>
<p>Noah isn’t surprised by the idea that Ronan must’ve been a well-liked teacher. Especially since most Aglionby teachers aren’t like him, closer in age to the students and with that magnetic combination of a cool facade over someone who actually cares a lot. Noah bets that Ronan had gone above and beyond for his students. The men in charge at Aglionby are idiots for letting Ronan go.</p>
<p>After a while, Noah pulls his attention away from Ronan and the boy, his gaze switching over into the maze. A pathway leads from the entrance before breaking off into two opposite directions. He’ll probably try going left first, watching as a trio of people turn the same way, their movement sparking a group of ravens to fly out from that direction, startling Noah as the birds flap their wings and let out loud series of croaks, high-pitched and throaty, splitting the stillness of the air with their noise.</p>
<p>The wind picks up in intensity as if it’s been affected by the stir of the ravens’ flight. It almost knocks one bag of pumpkin seeds that Noah holds out of his hands. He shivers. The forecast had said it’d be reasonably warm today with only mild breezes, so he’d brought a light jacket that doesn’t do much to fend off the biting cold. Pointlessly, he wraps the jacket tighter around himself anyways.</p>
<p>Something catches his attention from out of the corner of his eye. Familiarity strikes him before Noah even registers the shape of a person probably around the same age as Ronan’s ex-student. He doesn’t know how he can tell that, but somehow he knows that they’re not as old as him or older than him. As he turns to look straight on, the person walks off down the right path, disappearing around the corner and causing Noah’s feet to follow without him even being aware of it at first.</p>
<p>He can faintly hear the ravens in the sky above him, a circling sound that itches at something in his memory. It feels like deja vu but not quite. He walks around the corner, turning right at the split, and sees nothing but an empty pathway that goes to the left. He continues moving forward, spurred by the growing certainty that he’ll have some answers if he sees who this person is—and there’s the sound of someone crying softly, their breaths heaving in-between sobs and frantic whispers that are halfway to breaking.</p>
<p>It stops Noah in his tracks.</p>
<p>He’s heard it before. Where has he heard it?</p>
<p>The air grows colder. Noah realizes that there’s no longer any sunlight shining directly on him. At first he thinks it’s because the ravens must have blotched out the sun, but when he looks up, he sees that a large gray cloud has crossed the sky, diming the day into shadows. It brings out the chill of the wind even more, which pricks at his skin like wintery thorns.</p>
<p>There’s a rustling from nearby that causes Noah’s back to stiffen. It’s as if there’s something walking through the cornstalks, the sound of it growing louder as the sobs and whispers fade away. Even the ravens have quieted down. All Noah can hear is the movement through the cornstalks, feet rushing across the ground and hands snapping at the stalks.</p>
<p>He’s about to run, yell—<em>anything</em>—when a hand shoots out from the cornstalks to grab onto his arm.</p>
<p>A scream freezes in Noah’s throat.</p>
<p>He turns around and his gaze zeroes in on the figure at the end of the path. It’s <em> him</em>. Except that this Noah is so pale, dressed in an Aglionby uniform, and looks so tired. There’s an alarming dent to his cheek that’s bruised the same color as the bags underneath his eyes. Eyes that look back at Noah with a sadness that has something else getting stuck in Noah’s throat. A sense of familiarity strikes him again.</p>
<p>“Noah?” The hand on his arm tightens. “Noah!”</p>
<p>Noah blinks his wide eyes and sees Ronan looking back at him. There’s an expression on Ronan’s face that’s loud and obvious, but Noah can’t think properly enough to see what’s there.</p>
<p>The other him has disappeared, nothing except air where he stood, but Noah stares and stares as if that’ll bring him back.</p>
<p>Ronan studies him, silence settling in place of where a person would normally ask him if he’s okay, but Ronan doesn’t waste time with questions like that and Noah knows that he doesn’t look okay.</p>
<p>Embarrassment joins his face in the form of reddening cheeks.</p>
<p>Ronan lets go of him. “Why don’t we skip the maze and buy some pumpkins instead?”</p>
<p>Noah processes the question, thinks about it, and nods.</p>
<p>They buy a pumpkin each. Noah tries to act normal, but throughout the entire process of picking out pumpkins and paying for them, he finds it hard to do so. That ghostly version of him from the maze lingers in his thoughts, itches at his memories like nails against chalkboard, and causes him to wince as his head throbs with something like a headache. By the time they’re standing by the parking lot, all he wants to do is lie down somewhere, but the thought of lying down with nothing but that version of him spinning in his thoughts until he manages to drift off to sleep sounds like torture.</p>
<p>Ronan’s eyes are on him and he realizes it suddenly. They’ve been standing in silence for he-doesn’t-know-how-long. He’s about to smile and attempt some friendly farewell, so that this awkwardness can be broken and he can part ways without Ronan being none the wiser—or at least without causing more concern for Ronan than he already has, but before he can, Ronan asks, “Are you free to make some pumpkin pie today?”</p>
<p>Noah blinks in surprise. He almost asks Ronan to repeat his question, unsure if he heard right, but there’s no mistaking it.</p>
<p>Ronan looks pointedly down at his pumpkin. “I don’t really plan on carving a jack-o’-lantern out of this,” he says. “And I can lend you a helping hand with the cooking if you want.”</p>
<p>Noah nods without even having to think about it. He likes this plan very much.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Noah’s mood improves, which isn’t surprising. He doesn’t know why it wouldn’t. Ronan is in his house so that they can cook together and he’s going to be able to hang out with Ronan for longer than he thought. There’s nothing about that that doesn’t have him feeling giddy like a kid on Christmas morning.</p>
<p>But then that all goes out the window when they step into the kitchen where Violet is and she looks up at Ronan and says, “Oh, you’re the guy that Noah didn’t sleep with.”</p>
<p>Noah’s immediate urge is to pull her out of the kitchen and have a word with her, but then he looks at Ronan and all he can focus on is the bewilderment in Ronan’s wide eyes. He sputters out an explanation. “I… Ronan, back when—when your driver’s license… Violet found it in my car and she made some assumptions, so I told her that…that wasn’t…” Overwhelmed, he turns to glare at his sister. “Oh my god, Violet. That’s not how you greet someone!”</p>
<p>Violet raises an eyebrow at him, but rather than making some other remark, she walks up to Ronan and holds out a hand. “Sorry about that,” she says. “I’m Violet. Noah’s cooler sister.”</p>
<p>“Ronan Lynch.” Ronan shakes her hand. “But you know me as the guy your brother didn’t sleep with.”</p>
<p>Violet laughs. “It’s nice to meet you.”</p>
<p>Noah wishes that his pumpkin was hollowed out so that he can put it on his head and hide the mortification on his face. Or maybe he can go dig himself a hole and crawl into it. This is a literal nightmare, made worse by the fact that he can’t wake up from it. Not even Ronan and Violet seemingly getting along from the get-go can salvage this. He walks away to set his pumpkin on the kitchen counter and takes a moment to try reaching nirvana.</p>
<p>“What are you guys up to?” Violet asks. “Curving pumpkins?”</p>
<p>“We’re making pumpkin pie,” Ronan says.</p>
<p>“Ugh yes, pumpkin pie is the best!”</p>
<p>“You can have a slice or two if you want.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“I won’t be able to finish the whole thing by myself.”</p>
<p>“Are you serious?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“I can finish an entire pumpkin pie by myself. My mom always makes it for Thanksgiving and…”</p>
<p>The conversation fades to the background as Noah watches through a video tutorial on how to make pumpkin pie. He’s made apple pie before, but that’s it, so he wants to make sure how different pumpkin pie might be from that. For the most part, it’s the same, but he has to double-check if there’s any unbaked pie crusts in the house, which—good news—there is and that’s when he starts paying attention to Violet and Ronan’s conversation.</p>
<p>…Only to hear Violet asking Ronan if he’s got any brothers.</p>
<p>“Noah says you’re too old for me, so I was wondering if you’ve got a younger brother or maybe a cousin.”</p>
<p>Noah groans. “<em>Violet</em>.”</p>
<p>“What? I’m just interested.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Ronan says and it sounds like he might laugh.</p>
<p>Noah’s cheeks warm up. He wants to hear Ronan laugh.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for Violet, Ronan’s younger brother, Matthew, is in college, but she makes him show her a picture of him anyways. Noah can’t help but take a curious peak. To his surprise, the boy has curly blond hair, completely different from Ronan’s dark hair and what Noah remembers of his older brother, but Matthew has similar blue eyes. They get side-tracked as Ronan tells them a story about an incident Matthew caused at a lacrosse game that has Noah and Violet bent over laughing.</p>
<p>It takes them a while to actually get started on the pumpkin pie. By that time, Adele gets home and her presence is enough to whip order back into things. To Noah’s surprise, Adele easily gets on well with Ronan. It only takes Adele finding out that Ronan is the most reliable one in the kitchen before they’re seeing eye-to-eye. In Noah’s defense, he hasn’t made pumpkin pie before, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him happy to see Ronan getting along so well with his sisters. What is Ronan’s first time in the house amongst his family feels like the hundredth time. He leans back against the fridge, watches Ronan talk with Adele as Violet munches on some pumpkin seeds, and thinks how easy this is.</p>
<p>His gaze drifts downwards. Ronan’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. For an embarrassing moment, Noah admires the sight of his forearms, but then a concerning detail catches his eyes. Scars. Faint, but visible and long, running about six inches down the length of Ronan’s wrist.</p>
<p>Noah immediately thinks about the leather bands from his wet dream. They had been on Ronan’s left arm, too.</p>
<p>The world seems to tilt.</p>
<p>“...oah? Earth to Noah!” Violet’s voice is loud, snapping Noah out of his thoughts, and he sees that she’s waving the bag of pumpkin seeds towards his direction. “Did you want any more? Otherwise I’m going to finish the rest.”</p>
<p>Slowly, Noah starts to shake his head. “You can have it all.”</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Ronan is looking at him a bit too intensely.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Noah starts to leave the kitchen, so that he can be alone for a moment and gather his bearings. “I just remembered that I left something in my car.”</p>
<p>“Let me help you.”</p>
<p>Before Noah can say that it’s fine, Ronan has already started to follow him and now that he actually has to commit to his story, Noah grabs his keys. They head towards the front door and Noah tries to figure out what he can get from his car that’ll work as an excuse, but all he can think about is the scars on Ronan’s wrist.</p>
<p>He stops in the hallway and turns around, so suddenly that Ronan almost walks into him. For a brief second, Noah gets a whiff of the cologne Ronan wears that’s a mix between cinnamon and nutmeg, and he imagines moving forward to press his face against Ronan’s chest—before he shakes the thoughts from his mind and takes a step backwards.</p>
<p>“Is it the corn maze?” Ronan asks.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s because Noah’s out of it, but he doesn’t understand what Ronan is talking about at first. Until he finally remembers. The ravens and the haunting sobs and the ghost him flood back into his mind with a startling instancy that has Noah blinking in surprise. He hadn’t thought about any of that in a while, the incident slipping from his mind completely with the warm company of his sisters and Ronan in the kitchen, the sweet scent of pumpkin pie filling in the air, the laughter that had greeted his ears. Even now that he remembers it’s hard to let that get to him. Not when something else is troubling him more.</p>
<p>He shakes his head, his eyes falling back down to Ronan’s wrist. From up close, Noah can now see that what he thought was only about five scars is actually more. Three scars turn out to be a series of scars that are close together, so from a distance they had appeared to be large single scars. Noah swallows. “What happened?”</p>
<p>Ronan doesn’t ask for clarification. “An animal with claws got to me.”</p>
<p>Noah wants very badly to believe him. He bites his lip, hesitates, and reaches out to run a finger along the side of a scar. “Did it hurt?”</p>
<p>“Of course it did,” Ronan says, his voice low. He holds his arm up between them, so that it’s now parallel to the ground.</p>
<p>Noah lets his finger linger at the end of the scar he’d been tracing before he drops his hand. “Does it still hurt?”</p>
<p>“Nah.”</p>
<p>Noah can’t stop staring at his wrist, but it occurs to him that it’s rude to be staring as long as he has, so he looks away to the walls then to the ground then at Ronan’s shoulder then up to see that Ronan’s been staring at him.</p>
<p>Their eyes meet, but then Noah blinks and Ronan looks away.</p>
<p>A blush settles on Noah’s cheeks.</p>
<p>“It hasn’t hurt in a while,” Ronan says.</p>
<p> “That’s good.” Noah tries to think up something to say that will clear the heavy air that’s settled with them in the hallway, but nothing comes. He almost wishes that he hadn’t said anything to begin with and continued on with his charade of getting something from the car, but he realizes that’s not true. If he hadn’t brought it up, Noah knows that it would have bothered him until he finally did.</p>
<p>“Noah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>There’s a hint of something like bashfulness on Ronan’s face. “Thanks for inviting me to the pumpkin patch today. And it’s been fun hanging out with you and your sisters.”</p>
<p>Noah grins. “It’s no problem.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh my! new revelations! make of it what you will!</p><p>i wrote this chapter back in october and i think it shows lol also, i've come to realize that one of my favorite roah fics needs more love and attention, so if you're looking for another roah fic to read, i highly recommend especiallythezefronposter’s “<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441162">i want all the rain</a>” (that is if you haven’t read it already, but even if you have, it’s worth the reread ^^).</p><p>
  <br/>
</p><p>p.s. here's a slice of pumpkin pie to those that noticed a certain unnamed but familiar character who made a guest appearance in this chapter ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Out of Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it gets harder and harder with each chapter to figure out what to title them xP</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Noah, you should move up here.”</p><p>Noah obliged, getting up on the bed and waddling forward on his knees so that he straddled Ronan’s chest. They were both panting and sweating. Noah had lost track of how long they’d been going at this. And he didn’t want to stop. As Ronan touched him, one hand coming to rest on Noah’s thigh and the other slipping around to his back, Noah’s eyes drifted upwards to the painting on the wall. He was too far gone to think anything insightful about the painting other than that he thought it looked nice. Although not as nice as Ronan.</p><p>“Noah?”</p><p>Noah looked down. He was so caught up by how close his cock was to Ronan’s face that it took a moment for him to notice the mischievous smile that was on said face. A face so pretty that it almost took his breath away.</p><p>“You should come on me,” Ronan said.</p><p>Noah held back a moan. He liked that idea a lot.</p><p>The smile on Ronan’s face widened. “Yeah?”</p><p>Noah managed a stiff nod. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Good. I want you to come on me.”</p><p>Noah didn’t need any more prompting. He took his dick in his hand—<em>god, he was so hard</em>—and braced himself with his other hand to the wall. He raised himself up a bit as he started to jerk himself off, tight and fast and relentless, chasing after his own release and eager to know what Ronan would look like with Noah’s cum decorating his pretty face. He was going to look even nicer. Noah just knew it. It would be the nicest sight Noah would ever lay eyes on.</p><p>It didn’t take long.</p><p>“Don’t miss,” Ronan said.</p><p>Noah didn’t. With a noise that he had long since stopped getting embarrassed about, he came. His legs trembled from the gratifying intensity, so that he ended up sitting on Ronan’s chest as he rode out the orgasm, his hand wrapped feebly around his cock as he kept it aimed at Ronan’s face, and he watched with heavy breaths as his cum splattered onto Ronan’s cheeks and nose and mouth, along his jaw and down his neck. Some of it fell on one of his half-opened eyes.</p><p>Ronan licked at his lips. Noah’s cum on his tongue was a tantalizing sight, and something caught in Noah’s throat as Ronan moved his head up so that he could take the tip of Noah’s cock into his mouth, cleaning the last of the cum off of it.</p><p>Noah watched Ronan swallow it down. Hot and heavy arousal stirred in his gut. “Fuck, Ronan.”</p><p>Ronan’s head fell back onto the pillow. He wiped at the eye that had been jizzed on, but let the rest of it remain on his skin. He laughed, the sound of it as bright and warm as always. “An angel,” he said, his eyes pinning Noah with something like satisfaction and adoration but stronger. “You’re an angel, Noah.”</p><p>Ronan took Noah’s hands in his. “My angel.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His room is so cold. Cold enough to the point where Noah is shivering as he lies on his back, but he doesn’t move to cover himself with his blankets, choosing instead to let the cold kill his boner. He stares up at the ceiling, feels frozen in more than one way. Something is simultaneously sinking and rising in his chest, and he continues to shiver and stare and shiver and stare as the fucking dream—he winces at the word choice—lingers in his head rather than slipping away as dreams usually do.</p><p>Then again, he’s remembered the rest, so why should this one be any different?</p><p>He tries not to think about how this one feels less like a dream and more like a memory, but it’s hard when more details add onto it. Details that hadn’t been in the dream, but that he would have noticed if he’d been paying attention.</p><p>Or it’s more like he’s looking back on something that has actually happened for all that it was. A real life event, overflowing with additions that the rest of his hyper-realistic dreams didn’t have: the way Ronan’s hair had been growing out, the way Noah’s balls had pressed against the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand had tightened into a fist against the wall, the way Ronan’s sheets had been a pale blue color that complemented his eyes, the way his leather bands had been off to reveal the scars, the way the skin of Noah’s ass had been slick with cum, the way Ronan’s armpits had pressed against his thighs, the way Ronan had looked up at him as if…</p><p>As if…</p><p>
  <em> As if he loved him. </em>
</p><p>The ache that rips through his chest and leaves out his mouth as a broken sound shocks Noah. He sits up, presses shaking hands to his eyes, and wills away the urge to cry. He’s acting like a stupid moron. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t. It was bullshit. There’s no reason why he should be feeling like this.</p><p>The room feels like it’s gotten even colder, but he still doesn’t reach for his blankets. The shivering distracts him a bit, numbs whatever misplaced pain is pounding in his skull.</p><p>It takes way too long for him to catch up with reality.</p><p>With a curse, Noah remembers that he has a shift at Dolce today. And he had woken up because someone had been calling him. He reaches for his phone where it lies by his pillow. Luckily, he’s got about twenty minutes to get up and get ready and get to Dolce, but then his hand stills when he sees that he’s got a missed call and a text from Ronan. Two texts actually. A lump forms in Noah’s throat that makes him want to throw up.</p><p>He doesn’t call Ronan. There’s no way he can talk to Ronan right now. He opens up the texts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Do you want to stay for dinner tomorrow? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If you do, let me know if there’s a specific dish that you’d want me to cook. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Noah stares at the words. He’s slow to remember that he had planned to help Ronan out with dismantling some beds at his house, the excitement he had felt when Ronan had asked, pumpkin pie in his hands, cannot be any more different from what he feels now. Mixing Ronan and beds together is not a combination he can deal with at the moment, but he doesn’t want to go back on his word. And there’s a pull to Ronan cooking dinner for him that Noah can’t resist. He’s weak.</p><p>His hands give in, typing out a response and sending it before Noah can have second thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> surprise me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He drops his phone and falls back on his bed.</p><p>Today’s going to be a long day.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s a longer day than Noah feared. He has gotten used to there not being as many customers as there was during the summer, but two people in the span of three hours is a new record. Not to mention the two people came as a pair, so after that one visit, no one else has entered through the door. And that leaves Noah alone with thoughts he would rather do without, but there’s only so many times he can clean the counter and check the stockroom and stare at the gelato before the distractions wear off.</p><p>Towards the beginning of the fourth hour, the thoughts in his head reach a point where his dream is all that he can focus on. Noah is surprised he managed to make it through that long without the dream weighing as heavy on his shoulder as it did when he woke up, but now all he can do is stare out the door and reexamine the dream from all angles, both old and new.</p><p>Maybe it’s because enough time has passed for the initial exhilaration to die down, but now Noah can think about this with a weary, almost analytical lens. He had felt guilty over the first wet dream, but it’s hard to feel that now when he thinks about how things have shifted since then: Ronan has texted him, laughed at a few of his jokes, joked with Violet about sleeping with Noah, let Noah touch the scars on his wrist, initiated the reason for their next interaction… Noah can’t help but think that there’s a possibility that just maybe it’s possible that Ronan could become interested in him enough to… To… </p><p>There’s that look again. The one Ronan had given Noah in the dream.</p><p>It’s like there’s something clenching tight around his heart. Noah presses his face into his hands, flustered and confused. He doesn’t know why that look continues to feel like something that he’s lost when he’s never had it in the first place. Ronan has never looked at him like that, but he would like Ronan to look at him like that. A dream come true.</p><p>He must have gone through the dream about four times before it occurs to Noah that he had probably been riding Ronan’s cock before the dream started, because where else would the cum on his ass have come from? There’s only a slight blush that comes across his face when he thinks about bottoming for Ronan. He can’t imagine Ronan being a bottom, but then again—images of Ronan below him flash through his head—he shouldn’t rule that out. Noah wouldn’t mind it either way. He’s had enough experience to know that he’s a verse.</p><p>Part of him doubts he’ll get as lucky as he did in the dream. Not if Ronan knew that he gets carried away by dreams and invents narratives around them. It’s not as if he actually rode Ronan in the dream, only that he wants to. It’s pathetic, adding it on as if it did happen, but it didn’t, and all he’s doing is wanting something to happen in something that didn’t happen to begin with. He rubs his hands against his temples and goes to check on the stockroom again. It hurts to think about this.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Noah doesn’t plan to hook up after his shift finishes, but once he’s sitting in his car, his hands automatically moves for his phone and he’s opening an app he downloaded years ago and hasn’t used since. He tells himself it’s a safety measure for tomorrow, to limit the chances of him getting turned on when he’s around Ronan now that he’s basically seen what Ronan looks like with cum on his face and his mouth around—</p><p>He adjusts in his seat, reluctantly admitting to himself that he’s just really freaking horny and needs to let off steam. There’s no way what he does today is going to help him with tomorrow, but one can hope.</p><p>That’s how he finds himself driving almost an hour out of Henrietta to a nearby town, because that’s where the closest guy who’s down for some action is located.</p><p>It looks like the guy—his name is “Jeremy” according to the app—has just gotten off a shift as well, judging by how he walks out of the grocery store in a cashier getup.</p><p>Noah can’t help but laugh and gestures to his Dolce uniform. “I guess a long day of work has got the both of us in a mood.”</p><p>Jeremy smiles. “I’m on break,” he says after directing Noah towards a place down the road.</p><p>“You’re hooking up during work?” Noah parks behind what looks to be an out-of-business restaurant. “That’s kinky.”</p><p>“A lot can be done in twenty minutes.” Jeremy unbuckles his seatbelt, stretches, and leans over to peer at Noah. “You’re a cutie.”</p><p>Noah isn’t surprised to feel his cheeks heat up. It’s not often that he gets compliments on the way he looks and it trips him up every time that it does happen. He’s trying to figure out what to say—“thank you” or “you’re cute, too” or something else—but by then, Jeremy is nuzzling him with his nose.</p><p>“I think you’d look even cuter sucking me off.”</p><p>Noah can’t help but shiver as Jeremy presses a kiss to his neck and sucks a bit at the skin.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Noah tries to ignore the familiarity of those yeahs, undoes his seatbelt and moves his chair back a bit, so that he has enough room to get up. He tucks his legs underneath him as he waits for Jeremy to pull his dick out from his pants and then bends over the center console to take it in his mouth. It’s been a while since he’s given a guy a blowjob, so he knows he fumbles a bit, has to figure out a way to get his hand and mouth to work together rather than get in each other’s way, but he hears the appreciative words that Jeremy mutters breathily and figures that he must be doing something right.</p><p>Especially when he decides to test out how far he can go down on Jeremy’s cock before his gag reflex protests, the action causing Jeremy to let out a slight moan.</p><p>“Can you deepthroat?” He asks.</p><p>Noah pulls off to take a breath. He licks his lips. “I can try.”</p><p>“Shit, okay.”</p><p>It takes Noah a couple of tries, and even then he can only take the entire length for a second before he has to stop, but that seems to be enough for Jeremy. A strangled warning leaves him before he’s coming in Noah’s mouth and Noah swallows it down because he doesn’t want the cum making a mess in his car. That seems to turn on Jeremy even more, his appreciative words return as he runs a hand through Noah’s hair.</p><p>Afterwards, he lies back in his seat and catches his breath. “Do you want me to suck you off?”</p><p>Noah glances at the clock above the radio controls. “Isn’t your break almost over?”</p><p>Jeremy laughs and shakes his head. “Damn, you’re so nice. Makes me feel like I should be tipping you or something.” He reaches over to unzip Noah’s pants. “The store’s not going to malfunction if I’m a couple of minutes late. You’re hard already, so that should speed things up. And just to brag, but I’m a master at blowjobs.”</p><p>A smirk comes across Jeremy’s face that causes Noah to think of someone he would rather not think about right now, but thankfully his mind is going blank in the next moment as Jeremy wraps his mouth around his dick. Noah holds back a curse and grips at whatever he can get his hands on, the back of Jeremy’s shirt and the steering wheel. He thought that teeth were a no-no when it comes to blowjobs, but Jeremy utilizes his teeth in a way where it does just the right thing, scraping against sensitive areas that has Noah jerking in his seat. In addition to his teeth, Jeremy uses the usual things: his tongue and lips and cheeks—even the back of his throat, going down deeper on Noah than Noah could on him.</p><p>Noah didn’t know that blowjobs could be an artform.</p><p>When he comes, it’s with a series of “fuck, fuck, fuck”s that ends in a moan wrapped around a name.</p><p>It’s only afterwards that he realizes what he said.</p><p>Jeremy swirls a tongue around the head of his dick and withdraws with a wet noise. “Who’s Ronan?”</p><p>Noah opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s all made worse by the fact that his face is definitely the same shade of red as a tomato.</p><p>One of Jeremy’s eyebrows lifts in amusement. “Is he as good at giving head as I am?”</p><p>That pulls Noah out of his shock a little bit. “I— I don’t know…”</p><p>“So he’s not an ex.” Jeremy nods, reaches out a hand and pats Noah on the shoulder. “Hey, good luck with this guy.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Noah doesn’t bother trying to deny it. Not when he knows that there’s nothing to deny.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>( ˘ ͜ʖ ˘)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(heads-up that it'll be five weeks before the next chapter is posted. i actually meant to wait another week before posting up this chapter, but i couldn't resist posting on the 28th two months in a row.)<br/>((also: yes, that first part of the chapter was purposefully not italicized. i did not forget.))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Painting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HELP. this is my third time trying to post this up.....</p>
<p>yet again i have no idea what to name the chapter, so i zero in on an important detail and use that as inspiration (that's usually how i do things + for fic titles).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adele and Violet are getting ready to leave for school by the time Noah stumbles downstairs for breakfast. Or to be more accurate, Adele is telling Violet to hurry up and finish her cereal before they’re late. Violet rolls her eyes, but she’s chowing down at rapid speed.</p>
<p>Noah does not miss anything about the morning rush.</p>
<p>Adele spots him on the way to the kitchen. “Oh hey, Noah. You’re going to Ronan’s place today, right?”</p>
<p>Violet perks up in her seat, but before whatever’s in her brain can leave her mouth, Noah jumps in with a “don’t you dare, Violet.” He turns to Adele. “Yup.” He’s not leaving until later on in the day, but he’ll be gone before they get home from their after school stuff.</p>
<p>“Tell him hi for me,” Adele says.</p>
<p>“Take a picture of his raven, too!”</p>
<p>Noah can’t help but smile. It’d been clear from Ronan’s visit that his sisters had taken a liking to him, but it’s still nice to be reminded of it. “I can just give you guys his number if you want to do that now.”</p>
<p>Violet sticks her tongue out at him. “And steal him from you? I like him but not like that, Noah.”</p>
<p>Adele shoots her a look that gets her back to eating.</p>
<p>Noah leaves them to it, but he’s barely a few steps away when Violet’s talking again. “What about you, Adele?”</p>
<p>“What about me what?”</p>
<p>“What’s your thoughts on Ronan?”</p>
<p>“Hmm… I like him better than Noah’s other friends.”</p>
<p>“Same! I feel like I’ve met Ronan before.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but Henrietta’s a small town. We’ve probably crossed paths with him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When the front door opens, Noah is surprised by a “KERAH” and the black flutter of wings before there’s a raven on his shoulder, pulling at his shirt and pecking at his head and continuing to make loud sounds. He relaxes once it’s clear that the raven means him no harm, but he realizes that Ronan is watching from the doorway in amusement and Noah gives him a questioning look, eyes still wide.</p>
<p>“She likes you,” Ronan says.</p>
<p>Noah thinks about how this didn’t happen the last time he saw the raven. For a second, he entertains the idea that Ronan and the raven can talk to each other. Maybe Ronan threw in a good word for him.</p>
<p>“What’s her name?” He asks, still unsure rather it’s Chainmail or Sawdust.</p>
<p>“Chainsaw.”</p>
<p>Close enough. Noah reaches up a hand and runs it once over Chainsaw’s wings. She lets out another “kerah” at the touch, but she doesn’t move away.</p>
<p>“Is that a hickey on your neck?”</p>
<p>At this point, Noah’s blushes are beginning to feel like clockwork—as if every hour his cheeks have to find some reason to redden. His hand flies up to his collar, which he realizes Chainsaw had pulled down during her excitement, showing off the single mark that Jeremy had left on his neck from yesterday for all the world to see. Noah wishes in vain that he’d stolen one of his dad’s turtleneck shirts and worn that instead, so that he could’ve avoided stammering in embarrassment for what feels like way too long.</p>
<p>Finally, he manages a single strangled “yeah” and doesn’t elaborate. There’s no way he can tell Ronan about his hookup and the dream that caused him to do it in the first place.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Ronan doesn’t ask for clarifications, just nods and gestures Noah inside the house.</p>
<p>Noah had already established that he can dismantle a bed the last time they talked, so when they arrive at the bedroom, all Ronan does is point to where the tools are and lets Noah know where he’ll be in case he needs him before Ronan leaves him to it. To Noah’s surprise, Chainsaw remains with him, the raven hopping from his shoulder onto the top of the headboard, watching with intent eyes as if she wants to bear witness to the aftermath of his earlier humiliation.</p>
<p>Too late, it occurs to Noah that he could’ve salvaged it somehow, maybe test the waters with a coy “does it look good on me?” but he gets too tongue-tied around Ronan. Flirting is not even an option. It’s unfathomable. Not to mention if it backfires on him then that’s going to make sitting through dinner with Ronan unbearably awkward.</p>
<p>Noah winces and focuses on unscrewing a nail from one of the frame slats.</p>
<p>It’s a good thing he didn’t make a bigger fool of himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Two dismantled beds later, Noah holds out an arm for Chainsaw to perch on and goes searching for Ronan. Two beds was the only thing on the agenda, but maybe there’s something else he can help with until dinner. Ronan had passed by earlier to tell him that he would be getting started on it, so the kitchen is the most likely place to find him, but Noah double-checks the other bedrooms just in case Ronan came back upstairs.</p>
<p>He passes by a room he recognizes as the room he spent the night in a few weeks ago, taking in the sight of how empty it is now. Not even the separated pieces of a bedframe remain, gone along with the desk, the only thing that is left are the dark brown curtains, pulled back to let in the dimming sunlight.</p>
<p>It makes Noah curious about the state of the other rooms. He would’ve looked at most of them during his search for Ronan anyways, but now he also wants to see if Ronan has the same plan for all the bedrooms. Most of them prove that he does not. Aside from the dismantled beds, most of the stuff in the rooms remain, but Noah figures that that’s because Ronan hasn’t gotten to cleaning them out yet. Maybe that’s where he can pitch in.</p>
<p>Only one bedroom is an outlier, but judging by the untouched state of things, it’s clearly Ronan’s bedroom. Noah can’t help but linger a bit longer here. It’s never crossed his mind to try to imagine what the room Ronan sleeps in every night would look like. He’s not sure that what he could’ve came up with would’ve been accurate to what it’s actually like, slightly messy with clothes piling up at the foot of the closet, a bed at the side of the room with made but rumpled pale blue sheets, an opened window that lets in the air from outside, a shelf of—</p>
<p>Something catches his attention as he takes notice of the plain walls. If anything, Noah would have assumed that there’d be more posters up in Ronan’s room, but the walls are mostly bare. Except for a painting across the room from the bed. It’s not even hung up, but is set on the ground and propped up against the wall, low and unassuming that Noah most likely would have missed it if he hadn’t stopped to get a better look of the bedroom.</p>
<p>He thinks he hears Chainsaw let out a noise, but he can’t be sure. It’s as if sound has been sucked out of his ears, muffled over by a stillness that feels loud, and he’s faintly aware of his heartbeat, an undercurrent to the shock that buzzes through his veins.</p>
<p>It’s the painting from his dream.</p>
<p>Noah hesitates to step foot past the door. It feels like an invasion of privacy, but the unexpected sight of the painting pulls him inside the room. He leaves Chainsaw on the bed before he goes over to the painting, kneels down in front of it, and stares. It’s not a famous painting. It’s not a painting he recognizes from reality. It’s easy to tell that the painting had been done by someone who hadn’t yet refined their skills, but was eager and knew what they were doing. Noah reaches out a hand, gently touches the painting with his pointer finger. The surface is bumpy and layered, the result of actual dried paint, and not the smooth surface of a canvas recopied for distribution. Whoever painted this gave Ronan the original.</p>
<p>This is immediately confirmed when Noah recognizes the barn in the painting as the pale red barn that houses the cows. The barn hasn’t been drawn in its entirety, but there’s enough. The painting is done of the entrance to the barn, the doors opened to reveal a boy sitting on the ground with a calf curled up near him, the calf’s head resting on his lap. The scene takes place during the daytime, but it’s as if there’s a spotlight shining down on the boy and his calf, because the air around them is brighter than anywhere else in the painting. There’s something magical about it, but the magic is eclipsed by the tender humanity of the painting’s subjects.</p>
<p>Noah’s eyes flicker to the bottom right corner to check if the painter’s signed their name. Only to see that that corner has been ripped off. If there was a signature, then he’ll never know, the unexpected deadend contrasting crudely against the rest of the painting. Something caused someone to want it gone, and whatever reason feels almost unwarranted against such an innocent work of art.</p>
<p>Coldness wraps around him, causing Noah to shiver and his finger to fall from the painting. It takes him longer than it should to realize that the cold is a wind coming through the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Dinner turns out to be homemade Chinese food. Noah knows he told Ronan to surprise him, but he hadn’t been expecting the side-dishes of chow mein and fried rice and entrees consisting of mushroom chicken, eggrolls, shrimp with garlic sauce, and some other dishes that he isn’t familiar with. He knows Ronan was proficient in the kitchen from when they made pumpkin pie and since the Barns is far from the main town, it makes sense for Ronan to cook the food himself rather than order takeout, but it takes Noah a moment of staring before Ronan quirks an eyebrow at him and he starts to dig in with a blush that’s right on schedule.</p>
<p>Once he’s tried out the dishes that are new to him, Noah soon finds his thoughts drifting back to the painting in Ronan’s room, but he distracts himself by bringing up the walls that have since been painted the yellow color he picked out the last time he was in this dining room. After a while, they move onto talking about other things: the changing season, their siblings, Chainsaw (after they hear her making noise from the living room), Noah’s skateboarding abilities. The conversation comes easily. Part of him is surprised that he can actually manage to sit there with Ronan Lynch and talk to him like a normal person without tripping up over his words.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, it’s hard to focus when the painting continues to remain at the forefront of his mind, now joined by the dream from the other night—and how Ronan had looked up at him in the dream, so warm and fond. It’s all too easy to indulge in it given how Ronan looks at him now, no longer sharp and uninviting, but returning his eye contact with an easy openness. Noah picks up his cup and swallows down the water.</p>
<p>“Have you ever dated anyone?”</p>
<p>Ronan stops whatever he was saying.</p>
<p>Noah stares down at his food, wishes he hadn’t interrupted Ronan and asked him that question. He should’ve known there would be no way that he’d be able to make it through this dinner without putting his foot in his mouth. Why hadn’t he asked about the painting? He should’ve asked about the painting.</p>
<p>“I’ve had two boyfriends,” Ronan says.</p>
<p>The answer startles Noah. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he gets the rising impression that no matter what, Ronan’s answer would’ve startled him. He didn’t think that Ronan would answer to begin with. It feels rude to continue looking down at his food, so he forces himself to look up and say something. Apparently the best he can come up with is “oh, that’s cool.”</p>
<p>God, he’s an idiot.</p>
<p>Quickly, Noah tries to figure out what to follow that up with, but then Ronan starts to speak again.</p>
<p>“I dated my last boyfriend two years ago for a couple of months. Almost half a year. At one point, he needed somewhere to stay, so I told him that he could come here. It didn’t take too long to figure out that he was nothing but a freeloader. And when he kept adding onto the list of things there was to dislike about him, I broke it off.”</p>
<p>“Please tell me that he did all the work moving his stuff out.”</p>
<p>“Is it bad that he did?”</p>
<p>“No, I just wanted to know if he ended up helping you out around the house somehow,” Noah says, feeling a slight rush when Ronan smiles and gratification that he didn’t say the wrong thing this time. Maybe he can keep this up. “What was your other boyfriend like?”</p>
<p>Ronan’s face falters as something tight and pained flashes across his face. Then, his smile falls away completely and Noah knows he’s messed things up <em> again</em>. He kicks himself in the shin. He should’ve known better than to ask. First loves are always complicated. Maybe not for him. His first love happened in second grade when he saw <em> Sailor Moon </em> for the first time and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to marry Sailor Venus or Sailor Neptune, but he’s been in enough relationships to know that they’re capable of leaving unwanted emotional baggage.</p>
<p>He thinks about the ripped corner of the painting.</p>
<p>The moment of silence stretches between them. Words fall out of his mouth in an attempt to fill it up, unfiltered and hasty. “I hated the last relationship that I was in. I thought things were good at first, but she got hung up over things I couldn’t control. She didn’t like that I was bi, kept saying and doing stuff that made it clear that she thought I was cheating on her, and I’m younger than her, so I guess age increased those changes according to her. She could be really fun and smart, but she was always not trusting me about things. I don’t know why I let it go on as long as it did.</p>
<p>“Actually, that’s a lie. It was because she had some connections that made it possible for me to get an internship with stage design for Broadway, which could help lead onto other things, and I was really thankful to her for that. It made me blind to things. I thought I would be good to go after I graduated, but then she became convinced that I was trying to start something with a mutual friend of ours, and she— She pulled some strings and things fell apart in my face. I didn’t know what to do, so I packed up and came back here and now I’m…” Noah trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. He takes a breath. Why the hell did he have to bring up this sob story?</p>
<p>Ronan’s eyes are narrowed in a glare, probably in disbelief that Noah could be so stupid, and he can’t help but brace himself when Ronan speaks. “Damn, Noah. You shouldn’t have had to go through something that fucking shitty.”</p>
<p>The tension leaves his body, but Noah lowers his eyes when tears start to prick at them. “I didn’t tell you that because I think your first boyfriend might be the same or anything. I…” He doesn’t know how to finish this sentence either.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know you didn’t,” Ronan says. “And he wasn’t the same.”</p>
<p>Silence falls between them again, spanning the length of one second and then ten, but this time Ronan is the one to break it. “I dated that freeloader because he reminded me of my first boyfriend.”</p>
<p>There’s a pause.</p>
<p>Noah waits.</p>
<p>The pause morphs into a full-on stop. Noah makes himself look up and finds Ronan with his head tilted backwards, his eyes zeroed in on the chandelier and the expression on his face purposefully bare. There’s no doubt in Noah’s mind that Ronan’s put up an armor to hide what effect this conversation is having on him. Noah hates himself for starting it, but before he can try and find a way to get back the laidback dialogue they had before, Ronan opens his mouth, only to close it shortly afterwards.</p>
<p>Noah rushes in like some low-grade superhero to the rescue. “You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>Ronan nods, but he opens his mouth again and this time words come out. “Sorry. Just… Give me a moment.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Noah says, voice almost quiet enough to be a whisper, “sure thing.” Noah tries to distract himself by testing if he can finish an eggroll in two bites (he can) and he’s in the middle of finishing up the chow mein on his place when he hears Ronan take a deep breath.</p>
<p>“My last ex had the same easy way of getting me to smile even if I didn’t want to. I was happy, so I kept chasing after that, and that caused me to overlook his laziness, his immaturity, his stubbornness, his—he had this way of talking around things, so if he hadn’t moved in with me, I don’t know if I would have ended things as soon as I did. I was so blind, because he was outgoing and bold and laughing all the time like my…like the first guy I dated. I think— No, I wanted to relive my past through my relationship with him, but what I had when I was seventeen is different from having it at twenty… Ah fuck.”</p>
<p>Ronan runs a hand over his face, leaves it over his mouth, and there’s a low series of cursing underneath his breath. The next audible words that he utters are louder and muffled by his hand. “He was a replacement for someone I thought I had gotten over, but I hadn’t. And he couldn’t compare to the real thing. The real thing… The real thing didn’t stop getting better.”</p>
<p>Noah fiddles with the noodles around his fork. “Have you seen him?”</p>
<p>The question is too vague, an unspoken “since…?” punctuating the end of it, but Noah doesn’t want to assume anything. He wonders if he should clarify who he means, but Ronan is staring at the walls with an intensity that worries him.</p>
<p>“Ronan?”</p>
<p>Ronan’s hand slides off of his face. The chuckle that he lets out surprises Noah, ringing with something bittersweet that also appears in the hardness of his eyes and the twist of his lips. “There was this one time where he wanted to go hiking. I’m not big on hikes, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to go and I would’ve done anything that he wanted to do, so we ditched school and went. We get near the top of this one mountain, but apparently that’s not enough for him, because he sees this pine tree and starts climbing to the top. I’m yelling at him to come back down and he’s laughing and keeps climbing and all I can do is stand there, hoping that none of the branches snap underneath his weight. He climbs until he can’t anymore and shouts down at me that he wishes he had wings. At one point, I spot him through the branches, outlined against the sky, and I can’t stop staring. Can’t stop staring even after he realizes that I am and smiles down at me.”</p>
<p>Noah waits to see if there’ll be more to the story, but Ronan stays silent, appearing tired and half-lost in the memory. Noah tries for a comforting smile. “That sounds like a better time than sitting through math class.”</p>
<p>Ronan shrugs. “I guess it is if you think a life-threatening fall off a tree is more appealing than calculus.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I would.” Noah laughs. “Your ex has more guts than I do.”</p>
<p>The mildness on Ronan’s face disappears, replaced by furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes and a frown, the expression an echo from earlier, but different, sharpened out by an emotion that passes by too quickly for Noah to place. It surprises him, causes him to think back through his words and see what could’ve caused that. He comes up empty.</p>
<p>“That’s not something you would’ve done?” Ronan asks.</p>
<p>Noah’s still slightly puzzled, but he reconsiders. He <em> was </em>more reckless back then—if the speeding tickets he’d piled up and the schnapps he’d stolen from his mom are anything to go by. “Maybe.”</p>
<p>Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Maybe?”</p>
<p>“I was pretty wild, but I’m not sure I would’ve done that.”</p>
<p>“Would you want to?”</p>
<p>“Hike up a mountain to climb a pine tree?”</p>
<p>“The tree climbing is optional,” Ronan says. “I just meant the hiking part. Tomorrow or the next time you’re free. If you want.”</p>
<p>Noah’s heart quickens. He nods and nods and nods and stops himself before he turns into an overeager bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I—that—that sounds like it’ll be fun.”</p>
<p>A side of Ronan’s mouth curls upwards. “Consider it thanks for helping out today.”</p>
<p>“Okay. I can bring food for a picnic then,” Noah says, the idea verbalized before he can even process it in his head. “Since you cooked today, it’ll be my turn.”</p>
<p>Ronan’s smile fully forms. “Sounds good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i have a feeling i had something specific to say about this chapter, but at this point it's been a few months since i've written this so i've forgotten what it was. that aside, i hope this chapter was an enjoyable read. it's on the longer side and has some new information. oh la la.</p>
<p>it'll be another five weeks until the next update. see you then!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>EDIT: nevermind, i think i remembered what i meant to say, which is that to all of you who are worried about rather or not noah got that picture of chainsaw to send to violet, he did. you can rest easy now.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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